Gestures of Kindness
by Taliya
Summary: What if, on that fateful night, Shinichi never made it to Agasa's? What if instead, the newly-shrunken detective had been intercepted by Kaitou KID, whose initial act of altruism turns into something far more complicated than either of them expected? Platonic Kaito-Shinichi. Rated for language.
1. Prologue

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

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Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

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Prologue

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With the Midnight Sun safely tucked in a pocket—which was not Pandora—sixteen-year-old Kuroba Kaito, currently masquerading as the internationally wanted phantom thief known as Kaitou KID, glided through the cloudy night sky, enjoying the solitude being airborne had to offer. Tonight's heist had gone as well as he could have hoped, and he thanked the gods for escaping unscathed from Snake's bullets. He had made out with the target while outsmarting the London Detective and his fellow classmate, Hakuba Saguru, along with Inspector Nakamori Ginzo and the rest of the Kaitou KID Task Force before trading barbs, bullets, and steel cards with Snake and his men. The sounds of the sparse traffic and people thirty minutes to midnight were muted at this height due to the thickness of the air courtesy of the front expected to roll over Tokyo in a few hours' time. Even so, his keen eyes were able to pick out the individuals that dotted the grounds as he soared over Tropical Land. The amusement park was particularly busy; tonight was the beginning of the Golden Week holiday, with today happening to be both Shouwa Day and a Friday.

With the heist over, there was no need to uphold his Poker Face when he was alone, and it allowed him time to reflect and observe. Below, there were clusters of people that traipsed along—groups of friends, couples, all strolling at leisurely paces, and Kaito smiled wistfully at them, a part of him longing to be one of them but knowing he was set apart for as long as he was Kaitou KID. Sudden movement caught his eye as one person broke into a sprint, leaving another person standing alone as he passed over Horror and Fantasy Land. Curiosity piqued, he dropped in altitude and circled, watching the male teenager dart into the shadows and brace himself alongside one of the equipment sheds at the periphery of the amusement park. He switched on the night vision ability on his monocle, eyes narrowing when he spied a man clad entirely in black making a monetary transaction of a large sum via briefcase with another man, who quickly fled. _Not Snake, I just left him. An associate of his, perhaps?_ Indigo eyes widened when his gaze returned to the teen, who had been dropped by another man with long blond hair armed with a baseball bat, also clad in black. The man bent over and fed the disoriented teen something before the two involved fled the scene.

The desire for revenge—the yearning to chase the two men who might possibly lead him to his father's murderers—warred with the anxiety that flooded his gut as he watched the teen spasm on the ground. His conscience nagged at him for wanting to chase the two men in black when there was someone clearly in pain and needing aid when there was no one else immediately nearby to help, though there were two policemen with flashlights further away sweeping the areas behind the sheds. Cursing softly under his breath with a last lingering glance at the two escaping suspects he quickly dropped further in altitude, landing on the equipment shed the now-convulsing boy had hidden against. Once on the ground, Kaito could see a ribbon of blood painted down his cheek, but that concern was exponentially amplified when he heard the pained grunts and hisses that made it past the teen's clenched teeth. A quick glance around revealed the two officers nearing their location, clearly searching for suspicious figures. Knowing he could not be found in costume but unwilling to give up the tactical advantages said attire offered, Kaito flattened himself against the roof and waited, wondering about the teen's condition and working through various scenarios on to get the teen to the nearest hospital without being caught himself as the male teenager on the ground quieted with a final whimper.

"Are you all right, boy?" asked one of the policemen, and Kaito blinked.

 _Boy?_ he thought. _Why are they addressing a teenager as 'boy'?_ He eased himself to the edge of the roof after taking off his top hat, peering down at the developing situation and barely biting back a gasp of shock. _Gods and goddesses in heaven,_ he swore. Instead of a male teenager lying in the grass, a young boy of about six years of age blinked into the flashlight beams, wearing clothing much too big for him—the same clothing the teenager had worn. Kaito's brain froze as it processed what he was seeing. The child sitting in the grass had the same trickle of blood on his face, along with another one that stemmed from his eye. Same clothing, roughly same wounds, but different ages—had the teenager been de-aged somehow? He noticed the child looked just as confused as Kaito himself felt, the boy's brows furrowing as he watched the police officers.

"Your head is injured. What exactly happened?" continued the officers, taking a step towards the youth.

As if suddenly recalling the fact that he had been hit on the head with a bat, the boy grabbed the back of his head with a grimace, but then looked at the overly long sleeve that covered his hand in bafflement. Shock filled his eyes as he swiftly stared at the too-large puddle of jeans he was currently sitting in, and Kaito decided to watch and see how the situation unraveled—and to offer his aid if necessary—intrigued by the abrupt physical transformation in the teen-turned-child.

"I'm protecting an injured young boy," the second policeman reported, speaking into a handheld transceiver. "No, it's a primary school student." The boy glanced back up at the policemen, puzzlement giving way to terror in his expression at his predicament. Standing shakily, he rolled up his oversized clothing as best he could and dashed into the darkness. "His head is wounded, maybe he is connected to some sort of criminal case," the officer continued, starting when he realized the child had disappeared.

Kaito had pulled himself up and leapt soundlessly to the next building over the moment the boy had pelted off, following the child by rooftop as the officers panicked behind him. Injured as he was, Kaito's conscience would not allow him to let the boy run off without some sort of medical attention. And yet… was this child really a child, or had he truly originally been a teenager? Kaito silently shadowed the boy as he exited the amusement park, running down the practically deserted streets in blind terror. As he followed, he wondered if the boy would show signs of more mature, rational thought and action—for example, going to an emergency clinic to get his head looked at, or calling up someone to pick him up. The clouds chose that moment to unload its cargo, and rain began to pour down to the earth. Kaito was quickly drenched, but maintained watch over the boy. When he finally tripped and fell to the pavement, he decided it was time to do more than just act as a sentinel and dropped from the roof of the building he had been observing from, landing tens of paces behind the child and securing his Poker Face.

The boy braced himself against a window as he righted himself before nearly smashing his face into it as he stared in utter dismay at his reflection. "—has shrunk?!" he exclaimed in horror before whirling around with his back pressed to the window, eyes not really seeing what was before him. "Why?" he wondered aloud, and Kaitou KID could practically see the cogs in the youth's brain churning. "Could it have been caused by…?" He paused before suggesting to himself, "Could those drugs have caused this?"

"Apparently, boy," the magician answered, and the child jerked to face him, fear written plainly on his face. He held up both hands to show they were empty—though for a phantom thief of his caliber, that really did not mean a thing—but the gesture was meant to reassure the child that he was _ostensibly_ unarmed. "Calm down, I'm not here to hurt you. I promise." The thief made no move to draw closer to the youth; it would not do to spook him further. "I only wish to help you, seeing as how you are—or were—bleeding."

The boy's eyes darted wildly around like a cornered animal before settling fearfully back on him. "Who are you?" he asked, voice trembling, though whether it was from the rain or his situation, KID could not tell. As it was, the rain had by now rinsed away the visible blood from the child's wounds, and the gentleman thief was startled to see a near carbon copy version of his younger self staring back, albeit with deep blue instead of indigo eyes—his first good look at the child's face.

Poker Face held in place to hide his shock, KID bent into a theatrical bow, tipping his hat gracefully despite the fact it was waterlogged and barely held its shape. "Kaitou 1412, colloquially known as Kaitou KID, at your service," he said with as much disarming charm as he could muster. Straightening, he regarded the shivering boy, who stared back at him with wide eyes that held a strange spark of recognition. Filing that away for later food for thought, he said, "I would like to take you somewhere to get your head looked at. Head wounds are no laughing matter." He squatted so that he was eyelevel with the youth despite the distance that separated them, and held out a gloved hand in a silent entreaty.

The youth stared silently at him for a while longer, and KID could see the internal debate raging within before he seemed to reach some sort of resolution. "No hospitals," he insisted, and the phantom thief mentally frowned. "I—I can't have any public records of me when _they_ think I'm already dead."

KID tipped his head in concession at the sound logic, though the statement worried him greatly. "Fine. But I assure you that I will be having a look at your head regardless to make sure you don't have a concussion or go into shock."

Hesitantly, the child stepped towards him, and the magician unconsciously held his breath, holding himself as still as he could as the boy approached. When the child's fingers grasped his own, he exhaled, only then realizing that he had held it at all. Even with the night vision of his monocle he was unable to tell if the boy was concussed or not given both his pupils were fully dilated in order to see in the rainy gloom, but he would need to confirm it further with other tests later. As it was, he showed no signs of needing immediate emergency care—he still possessed excellent coordination if he could run the way he did, no mention of dizziness or desire to vomit—though the slight stutter did worry him. With a soft grin, KID murmured, "Let's get out of this rain first, all right?" as he rose to his full height. "Then afterwards," and his tone darkened by a fraction, "we'll talk about those men in black who shrunk you."

The boy attempted to flee once more in panic, but the phantom thief securely grasped the child's hand without causing injury. "L-Let go of me!" he yelled, tugging at his captured hand.

The magician pulled the boy closer to him as he bent down to eyelevel once more. "You're not a normal child," he stated, no longer verbally babying the boy and was gratified when he froze, eyes intently watching him with mingled interest and fear. "I know you're actually a teenager, between fourteen to seventeen years of age at a guess, if memory serves correctly. I saw how they dosed you with something, though I did not actually see you shrink to your current form." Assured that he had the boy's complete attention, KID continued. "Now, I'm not sure what the circumstances that led you to them were, but because of the serious nature of your situation and because I am quite an inherently curious being I'm willing to help you a little bit if you'll let me."

The boy's brows furrowed as he considered Kaitou KID's offer before he said shrewdly, "But you're no Good Samaritan—all you do is steal and return jewels. Why would you help me?"

"Oh, so you _have_ heard of me!" the thief purred with unconcealed delight.

The child scoffed. "I _do_ read the papers every now and then when I have the chance, Kaitou KID-san." The boy studied him for a moment longer, and now that the child had calmed down, the intense stare KID was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of completely proved to him that this boy was well and truly _not_ a six year old. "But regardless, why do you want to help me?"

KID's brow rose at the question before his expression morphed into his normal rakish, devil-may-care smirk. "Kaitou KID isn't allowed to help others even outside of heists? Don't you know the most important rule that I abide by?" he replied. The shrunken teenager gave him a flat stare. "Such a harsh critic," bemoaned the thief as he straightened and tugged the youth towards an alleyway. He felt he had spent too much time exposed on the empty streets as it was, and who knew if Snake or those other guys were anywhere in their immediate vicinity?

When the shrunken teenager began to resist, KID murmured urgently, "We need to hide. If those guys are truly after you, you'll need to disappear a little while, and I feel much too exposed here. That and you still need to get your head looked at."

The child immediately ceased struggling, understanding the gravity of his situation and warily but docilely followed the gentleman thief into the darkness. The rain had tapered to a steady drizzle as they wove around the residential backstreets of Beika City for close to fifteen minutes, though thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Only then did KID deem it safe enough to stop after quickly but efficiently scoping the dimly lit side street they rested in. "Know of any places nearby where we won't be disturbed for a while?" the thief asked quietly, noting the exhaustion in the boy's body language despite the comparatively stoic mien. KID knew the feeling intimately, having crashed too many times afterwards from the heist-induced adrenaline rush, and he was eager to get both himself and the boy out of their soaked clothing. As it was, he was amazed the child had not gone into shock already. He was already working out the logistics for getting the boy to his home in Ekoda despite the unknowns and risks, if push came to shove.

The boy once again pinned him with another penetrating stare, and KID could not help but wonder who exactly the teenager beneath the childlike appearance was. "If you really want to help me," he said slowly, and the phantom thief froze at the frigid solemnity that was completely at odds with the child's appearance, "I need to know if I can trust you." When KID opened his mouth to protest, he was cut off. "I want a name and a face."

 _That_ brought him up short. Eyes narrowing, he carefully reconsidered the youth standing before him, brazenly demanding his identity, reading between the lines. "You need to build a new persona in case this is a little more long term, I'm guessing?" Folding his arms across his chest, he countered without a hint of KID's usual jocularity, "And would you be willing to make the same concession? Would you be able to keep my identity a secret like I would yours?"

The youth's eyes narrowed in thought and he tilted his chin up to meet the thief's gaze full on. "I can keep a secret if it is necessary, though I don't like it and I'm terrible at lying," the boy finally admitted.

The phantom thief sighed audibly. "You _do_ realize that once we construct an alter ego for you, you'll be lying through your teeth every waking second until you regain your original form, right?" The boy's eyes slid to the side as he nodded in resignation. "Well then," he said briskly, the change in tone abrupt enough to snap the boy out of his musings, "let's first find a hidey hole for us before we begin introductions."

The boy had seemed to reach some sort of decision, for he reached out and grasped the phantom thief's hand before saying, "This way." The pair made their way from Haido to Beika, where eventually they stood before a large, western-style mansion. The nameplate on the perimeter gate entrance proclaimed the manor as the home of the Kudou family. The name was somewhat familiar, and he fleetingly wondered if this residence was that of either the mystery writer Kudou Yuusaku or the retired actress Kudou Yukiko—or maybe not quite as farfetched, the home of the teenaged detective, Kudou Shinichi. But the likelihood for any of those people—except perhaps the young detective who _did_ hail from Beika—seemed statistically low, and so he put it out of his mind.

KID watched with hidden amusement as the child tried and failed to reach the gate's lock with growing frustration before taking pity on the shrunken teen and wordlessly unlatching the gate. He followed the boy into the house with a warning that they keep all the lights inside the house off, shedding KID's white shoes in the genkan and stowing them away on his person as he muttered, "Pardon my intrusion." As the boy began to walk down the hallway leaving a trail of water he said quietly, "Hide your shoes. We'll need to dry the floor later so that it will look as though you never returned home." The child complied, stowing the drenched sneakers in the shoe cabinet before padding down the unlit hallway in slipper-covered feet toward the library with the thief in tow, both of them leaving a string of interconnected puddles in their wake.

"Are your parents home?" he asked quietly, eyes searching the darkness for movement and ears straining for any unusual sounds.

"No," breathed the boy, "they are currently somewhere in America. I live by myself."

KID sighed, feeling the child's living situation was all too similar to his own, what with his father dead and his mother flitting across the world. "Maybe…" the thief said softly in the hallway just outside the library, and the youth paused to listen, twisting to face him. "Maybe you should get some sleep first and have some time to think about my offer after I take a look at your head." He had no doubt the boy was turning his second offer over and examining it from all angles for loopholes, and Kaitou KID himself, despite being the one to suggest it, was fairly uneasy about how the whole affair was slipping beyond his control. That and if the child truly had a concussion, someone needed to drop by and check on him every couple of hours. _So much for a full night's sleep,_ he mentally groused without any real resentment.

The child's eyes narrowed shrewdly. "You're not backing out already, are you?"

"Not at all," KID said in an affable tone, though it did little to mask the gravity of the situation. "But it'll give you a chance to really think things through and get some rest. If you decide to go through with it, hopefully you will have decided by tomorrow, since I plan to drop by this place at midnight tomorrow—or would that be later today? If nothing else, then it's just a safeguard to make sure that you are stable enough to be alone if you do not have a concussion. Anyhow, if you decide you do not want or need my help after I come back, I give you my word I will mentally delete this address and name and never bother you again. But first," he said, not giving the bedraggled-looking boy a chance to interject, "why don't we get you changed out of your clothes into something dry and I take a look at your wound? I'll wait in the library—" he gestured to the dark room to his left where row upon row of shelving was barely distinguishable in the shadows, "—and you come find me with a first aid kit, yes?"

The boy nodded and disappeared up the stairs by the entrance while KID quickly located a powder room and wrung out his clothing as best as he could. He returned to the library and stood in the center, not wanting to dampen the dual couches or the desk chair after drawing the curtains of the windows shut and hiding away the occasionally lightning-lit sky. A quick call to Jii informed the man that he was fine and not in need of assistance.

"I'm back," said the youth, and the thief turned, gratified to find that boy had returned wearing a primary school uniform—likely his own from when he actually was that age, rumpled towel-dried hair, and wielding a first aid kit. Thunder rumbled loudly and the front rolled over the manor with a torrential roar.

Kaitou KID stepped towards the child and relieved him of his burden, directing him to sit on one of the couches after turning off the night vision on his monocle and switching the library's desk lamp on. It was at that moment the phone rang. The boy sprang up to answer it, but was easily restrained by KID with a hand clapped over his mouth. When the youth began to thrash, he whispered urgently, "You're supposed to be dead, remember?" and the child physically wilted in his arms. The phone continued to ring until the answering machine picked the call up.

"You've reached Kudou Shinichi. I'm not home at the moment. If you have a case for me, please leave a message…"

Well… That was not _quite_ how he had planned on obtaining the boy's name. He groaned loudly in his head as details about the teenaged detective genius flashed through his mind. Second year student at Teitan High School, standout soccer player, incredibly intelligent, intuitive, and observant, son of the both the mystery writer and retired actress, known as the Modern-Day Holmes—the list went on and on. _Why, why,_ why _did I have to come across_ another _detective?_ KID mentally wailed. _What were the odds? Hakuba is bad enough, but add in a_ second _detective? The gods must truly_ hate _me to have dealt me such a punishment!_

The detective in question had stiffened in his arms once the phone call had rolled over to the answering machine, and even now had begun trembling once more. KID marveled at how small the body in his arms was, having been shrunk from a form that was his size to _this_. Mentally giving himself a shake, he reorganized his thoughts. Priorities. Head wound. Right. "Come on," he murmured and scooped the shuddering and unresisting teenager-turned-child up and depositing him back on the couch. "Let me take a look at your head, then we'll talk."

Upon learning about his father's murder and understanding that the men that had killed Kuroba Touichi would assuredly try to kill him whenever he was in costume, Kaito had immediately taken an assortment of practical emergency first aid classes and read texts of physiology and anatomy and other such volumes on medicine, just in case. Putting that training to good use, he performed a quick series of diagnostic exams, asking if he could perform simple coordination tasks, checking his eye movement with a pen, and how he felt. While he was positive the boy knew exactly what he was doing, that he allowed himself to be treated without comment indicated just how out of it he truly was. Relieved but not entirely happy with his diagnosis of a lack of concussion—symptoms could show up days later—he then delicately prodded the boy's head, finding a large bump and a shallow wound. The blow he received had been glancing, for if he had been hit full on with that bat it would have likely crushed his skull in. Still, he was thankful that his white gloves came away clean, and he located a cotton swab before dabbing the area as best he could through the shrunken detective's hair with an antibiotic ointment. A long string of gauze later, and a neat bandage was wrapped around the child's head.

They situated themselves on the couches regarding each other awkwardly—or rather, the boy sat on one couch and KID stood in front of the other, still wearing his sodden trademark white outfit. Neither person was particularly enthused by the situation that had already revealed one of their identities to the other unknown entity. But the phantom thief was determined to help the teenager-turned-child; he had promised after all, and a gentleman always honored his word. Plus, seeing any child fleeing in as blind a panic as the one before him ever had made him want to do nearly anything to help.

"So what's your verdict?" he asked lightly in an attempt to defuse the tension, masking both his curiosity and apprehension at the child's answer. "I will, of course, never reveal your identity regardless, as I assuredly do not want you dead." He sighed, noticing the wrinkled bands of dampness across the boy's shirt from where his arms had held him. No doubt his back was completely soaked as well. "I got you wet again," he murmured morosely to himself.

"You know who I am now," the child said at length, apparently not bothered by the saturated state of his clothing. He swallowed thickly, almost visibly gathering his courage and drawing it about him like a cloak, and KID felt himself tense despite the fact that he was trying to actively relax his body and project a sense of calm. Blue eyes locked on to his, and his breath was temporarily stolen by the intensity of the youth's gaze. "A name and a face," he repeated without hesitation. His tone indicated to the phantom thief he would accept nothing less.

KID closed his eyes and sighed silently through his nose before catching the detective's eyes. "You're sure?" he asked for confirmation, voice betraying none of the anxiety he felt. "You can, even now, still find someone else to help you, and I will forget you ever existed."

The child shook his head. "You know already, and at this juncture I think it's best to keep that number as low as possible."

"Fair enough," the gentleman thief replied neutrally, securing his strongest Poker Face. "You promise you will keep my identity secret and won't turn me in? I have a lot more to lose than you do, being an internationally wanted criminal and all," he said as a warning. "You would be considered an accessory after the fact."

"I understand," the boy said coolly. "But I am also not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me. It's definitely the lesser of evils, at any rate." The child hopped off the couch and stood facing him, countenance grimly serious and eyes bright with intelligence. "Kudou Shinichi, detective."

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Author's Note: I'm not quite sure where this little plot bunny came from, but aside from the rather obvious holes in my story of, "Why would Kaito have taken notice of something that happened in the dark fringes of the park in the first place?" and "Why would Shinichi accept help from an international criminal?", it promises to be one hell of a ride, I think. The story will be told more from Kaito's point of view. Golden Week is a weeklong national holiday celebrated from April 29th to May 5th, beginning with Shouwa Day on April 29th, followed by Constitution Memorial Day, Citizen's Holiday/Greenery Day, and Children's Day on May 3rd, 4th, and 5th, respectively. I've fudged things up by ensuring that Shinichi has already heard of Kaitou KID, so it helps the storyline along. I hope you enjoyed it.

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Completed: 13.04.2015


	2. I: Friday, April 29 – Saturday, April 30

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

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Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

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I: Friday, April 29 – Saturday, April 30

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Never, in Kaito's wildest imaginings—which actually said quite a lot, considering just _how_ imaginative he was—had he ever anticipated having to unmask himself in such a manner. And especially _not_ to a law-enforcing, pharmaceutically-de-aged teenage private investigator. _What did I do in a past life to warrant_ this _?_ he wondered, staring at the miniaturized form of the Great Detective of the East. The boy had shakily introduced himself and now stood watching, waiting for him to reciprocate. _Who did I screw over in the last go around?!_ he mentally wailed since, at this point he was fairly sure the gods had all but abandoned him this night.

"I've heard of you," he said with an acknowledging nod, revealing nothing of his inner turmoil. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly as he allowed a smoke pellet to fall to the floor. A cloud of pink smoke later, and he was dressed in his blessedly dry civilian clothing, though his still-damp hair clung uncomfortably to his forehead. Kaito stared at the diminutive private investigator feeling horribly exposed, even though his Poker Face kept him from showing anything but a pleasant grin. Bending into an elegant bow, he procured and presented a pink rose for the youth with an adroit flick of his wrist. "Kuroba Kaito, aspiring magician and prankster extraordinaire of Ekoda High School, also known internationally as Kaitou 1412 or colloquially as Kaitou KID. But just Kaito, please, since I have a feeling we're going to be seeing a _whole_ lot more of each other…" He blinked. "What?"

Kudou was gaping at him with a poleaxed expression even as he mechanically accepted the proffered bloom. "You—" he started, then swallowed thickly. Kaito's brows crinkled in puzzlement but he waited silently for the boy to complete the thought. "You—you stole my face…" he mumbled, and Kaito blinked. "You look almost exactly like me…"

"Eh? Really?" asked Kaito, genuinely curious. He dredged up memories of the fuzzy newspaper pictures of the detective and mentally agreed.

The boy nodded. "I… I'll be right back," he said, and sprinted back up the stairs while Kaito contemplated his current situation. Kudou returned shortly with his mobile phone, rapidly pressing the buttons as he searched for something specific. He found the photo in mind on the phone, pausing to simply gaze at it with wistfulness. "Here," he said quietly, presenting the device to Kaito. "That was me—as of two weeks ago."

The magician inhaled sharply, staring at the crisp image on the phone screen. Kudou had not been lying about the striking similarities in their appearances. For all intents and purposes Kaito could easily pass as Kudou's identical twin. "Gods and goddesses in heaven," he breathed in a dazed awe as he gazed upon the face that was practically his own sans the hair style and color and with slightly different-hued eyes. There were minor differences in bone structure, face shape, and the like, but even then… "Well," he said, trying to inject some levity into their situation, "if you ever need your grownup self to show up for whatever reason, that could easily be arranged."

The boy pocketed his phone. "Frankly it kind of disturbs me that I could be mistaken for the civilian persona of an internationally wanted jewel thief," Kudou remarked dryly.

"Oi oi," Kaito objected, "I'm more likely to be mistaken for a smarty pants detective who likes to solve murder cases." He shuddered at the thought of being near dead bodies, instantly recalling his late father and hastily shoved the memories back. "I don't know how you get your kicks off of corpses, Kudou-san."

"Shinichi," the boy said as he deliberately ignored Kaito's latter comment but answered the following perplexed look, "So we're on even footing, please call me Shinichi. And no, I dislike dead bodies as much as anyone else. I just don't think about it while I'm working on a case." The phantom thief could not help but be amused by the detective's strong sense of justice—or in this case, equality. "Kuroba…? Kuroba…" Shinichi breathed, brow furrowing in thought. "Where have I heard the name before?"

The magician tilted his head in slight mystification. "Maybe you've heard of my dad, Kuroba Touichi, who also was a magician…?"

Shinichi's eyes lit up in recognition. "That's it! Kuroba Touichi was the one who taught Kaa-san disguising techniques!"

"Okaa-san…?"

"Kudou Yukiko, formerly Fujimine Yukiko…?" He dug his phone out again and quickly found a picture of his mother.

Now it was Kaito's turn to blink in astonishment when he recognized the actress's face. "Yukik—Oba-san—she's your _mother_?" he gaped.

The detective gave a suppressed snort, which soon turned into full-blown laughter. "Oba-san? You seriously called her _oba-san?_ " he chortled, incredulous. "Oh, I bet she _wasn't_ happy!"

Kaito huffed in mock affront. "I was _seven_ at the time!" he retorted before he joined in and snickered, a mixture of irony and honest amusement. "Yep, certainly wasn't happy with me and I got a scolding from her too," was his flippant rejoinder.

"Then your dad—was he the Kaitou KID?" Shinichi asked, mind racing with the implications. A glance at his companion and he immediately wished he had not blurted out what was on his mind when Kaito's smile immediately bled from his face.

A melancholy expression softened the magician's face as he sat down on the couch, and he reluctantly nodded in agreement.

They both froze at the knocking on the front door, and Kaito swiftly pulled on a pair of gloves and shut off the desk lamp. "Leave any lights on upstairs?" he whispered urgently to the boy, and Shinichi responded negatively. The magician hastily stashed the medical kit in a drawer of the desk, grateful that he had treated Shinichi when he had still been in full Kaitou KID attire, including gloves. Sprinting soundlessly to a window he unlatched it and slid it open, allowing the wind and misting rain to blow freely in. They both flinched as the front door opened and the light in the foyer clicked on.

"Shinichi? Shinichi, are you home?"

The child in question stiffened at the young woman's voice. " _Ran…_ " he breathed quietly, pain evident in his voice. Kaito mentally cursed as he dug out his street shoes and stepped into them before grabbing slippers and boy and fleeing through the window. _Gods and goddesses in heaven, why have you deserted me?_ he cried. The drizzle coated them in a layer of dampness once more, and only when Kaito reached the perimeter wall did he set the shrunken teenaged down.

"Damnit," Kaito swore softly. "She's going to report a break in and you're going to be reported as missing. I was hoping for a little more time," he hissed, mentally going over any possible "evidence" that they could have left to indicate that Shinichi was still alive. Kaito pressed a hand to his face in frustration. "Your clothes and shoes are going to give us away, Shinichi-san. Where did you leave them?"

Shinichi, however, was not listening to the thief's woes. He was staring back at his house with a stricken expression on his face.

"Oi!" Kaito barked, and Shinichi jumped. "Where did you put your clothes, shoes, wallet? Anything else you had on you at Tropical Land? The rose?" The boy blinked before quickly outlining which room was his and where he had placed the aforementioned items. Kaito sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot as of late. "Don't move," he commanded, shoving the house shoes he had worn into the boy's arms, "I need to swipe all that before the police get here to do a sweep of the place. One set of footprints leading from the window is bad enough; I don't think we need to add another set. Then we'll find somewhere else to bunk."

Without waiting for a reply he sprinted towards the front of the house, easing through the door and snatching the damp shoes from the getabako before skirting the outside of the manor to the correct window, all the while cursing himself a fool for both believing a recently-traumatized teenager could be capable of any sort of sound decision-making and accepting said decision from aforementioned recently-traumatized teenager. Tying the laces of the shoes into his belt loops and grumbling at the lack of a conveniently-placed tree to climb, Kaito swapped the gloves on his hands for ones with rubberized fingertips, sucked in a breath, and jumped, the textured digits and tips of his shoes finding purchase in the uneven bricking of the exterior despite the slickness from the rain. He scaled the wall to the second floor, prying the window open without damaging the locking mechanism and hopping onto the sill. He produced KID's monocle from a pocket, placed it on his nose, and switched on the night vision ability.

Scanning the room in the darkness, he fished out the grappling gun he normally used on heists, switched the settings, and took careful aim at the pile of clothing on the tiled floor of the bathroom. The clawed hooks thankfully snagged all of the wet attire and nothing else, and Kaito exhaled in relief once the entire sodden mass of cloth was reeled into his hands without leaving a damning line of water droplets on the carpet leading to the window. He tossed the ball of clothing over his shoulder to retrieve later. Now, he shucked his shoes off, leaving them on the windowsill and crept into the room, aiming for the wallet, keys, and single pink blossom on the nightstand. He pocketed them—storing the rose safely away with a wrist flick—and beat a careful but hasty retreat to the window as the girl's footsteps creaked along the stairs, no doubt headed his way, as she continued to call for Shinichi. Slipping his shoes on, he eased himself back onto the outside sill and closed the window, grateful it had a locking mechanism that latched automatically upon closing before carefully making his way down and grabbing the ball of now thoroughly-soiled clothing.

He found Shinichi waiting where he had left him, eyes still watching the windows light up rapid succession as the girl searched for him in his home with a look of absolute desolation. "We need to get moving," he said, wrapping the slippers the detective had mindlessly been holding in Shinichi's dirty clothing and dropping it to the ground as the wail of sirens announced themselves in the distance. Without any warning he picked the youth up under the armpits and lifted him to the top of the wall. Shinichi hauled himself up to sit on the top of the brick perimeter. "Catch," the thief called, and tossed the bundle of wet clothing into the detective's arms before jumping, rubberized fingertips latching on the edge of the wall as he braced his feet on the brick in a hanging crouch before springing upwards with a grunt. Using his momentum he vaulted over the wall, landing with a graceful aplomb that astounded the boy still perched on the wall. "Come on," he said, rising and lifting his hands up. "I'll catch you."

Shinichi swiveled and scooted to the edge so that his feet dangled off, and with one last backward glance at his home he pushed, hanging in space for a breath before Kaito's strong hands caught him and rearranged him in his arms. The magician glanced down the street in the direction of the sirens, said, "We're going to have to run for a bit," and so saying, fled. The gentleman thief's feet barely seemed to touch the ground as they snaked their way through the residential back alleys, and the detective in his arms was unusually silent. As he ran, Kaito heavily weighed the pros and cons of having Shinichi living under his roof as opposed to… well, he was not sure who else would easily take in an unknown six-year-old boy. By the time they reached the major Beika 2-choume intersection, Kaito had yet to reach a decision as finally set the boy down, breathing heavily from their sprint. He flagged a cab, directing the driver to his address in Ekoda. The thirty-minute ride was initially silent between the two. Neither quite knew what to say to the other before Shinichi had quickly fallen asleep during the ride, too exhausted to stay awake. When they reached a modestly-sized house, Kaito paid the taxi fare before scooping the shrunken teen up and taking him inside.

"I'm home," the thief murmured tiredly though he knew nobody was home, toeing his shoes off and sliding his feet into his slippers. He sat on his haunches, maneuvering the boy so that he had a free hand to remove the muddied house shoes and socks Shinichi had worn from the Kudou home. He laid the child out on the living room couch, grabbing the sodden ball of dirty clothing clutched in the boy's hands and tossing it in the washing machine with a reminder to himself to start it up first thing when he woke up. He dug out the smallest pair of shorts and tee shirt he had and a blanket and woke the boy up. Shinichi sleepily changed out of the damp clothing with some grumbling while Kaito wiped the dirt off his feet that had seeped through the layers of cloth before wrapping the detective securely in the blanket. He checked the bandage on Shinichi's head, satisfied that the wound had fully clotted. Guest taken care of, Kaito hung up the sodden KID suit in his workroom, allowing the clothing to drip dry over a large plastic bin he had bought expressly for that purpose, and rinsing and wiping grass and mud off his white leather shoes. The Midnight Sun was placed on a workbench, to be postmarked back to Inspector Nakamori at the TMPD headquarters. He then ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower before he returned to the living room, picked up the still sleeping detective, and padded back up the stairs to his room, settling the boy on one side of the bed under the covers before sliding in himself on the other half. There was much to be done when the sun rose in several hours' time, and Kaito quickly drifted into exhausted slumber after setting alarms to wake the both of them periodically.

* * *

Morning found Kaito curled around Shinichi, cuddling the child like a well-loved plushie. The detective, for his part, had fisted his hands tightly in the front of the thief's shirt, head tucked under the older boy's chin. Kaito woke first, blinking the sleep from his eyes and wondering why his nose itched. Memories of what occurred last night post-heist resurfaced in his mind as the fog of sleep dissipated, and he twisted his head slightly to stare at the childish form of the Modern-Day Holmes, his stare relaxing into a gentle smile. Though he realized that it should bother him that he was technically sleeping in bed with another boy his age, Shinichi's diminished appearance seemed to mitigate that reaction, edging it into something more brotherly and protective. Considering that the boy had honestly been panic-ridden and somewhat incapable of making sound decisions after he had been shrunk only served to reinforce that notion. And if the way he was gripping Kaito's tee shirt was any indication, the horrors of his new reality lurked none too far from where his mind resided in dreams. Shinichi had slept soundly throughout the night despite Kaito periodically prodding him awake to monitor his concussion, seemingly undisturbed by nightmares the thief knew would infiltrate his slumber in the coming weeks. Knew, because the magician himself was an incredibly light sleeper and that the trauma of such an experience always left scars on one's soul. That Shinichi had slept as deeply as he had meant that somehow he had subconsciously felt safe, and if hugging the detective as he slept had helped him gain the rest he needed, then Kaito could only say he was more than happy to oblige.

However, much as he would like to pretend he was Shinichi's security blanket, he knew that the other boy was going to be extremely embarrassed to be caught in such a position, and he had no desire to start off their day with the detective too uncomfortable to even look at him later. He tried easing the small fingers open, but the more he tried the tighter they clenched with the boy puckering his brows into a frown, even in sleep. Kaito sighed once more and gently shook the child on his shoulder. "Shinichi-san," he called softly, "Shinichi-san, wake up." Said boy mumbled something incoherent and burrowed as much as he could into Kaito's chest. The magician chuckled at the childish behavior; he freely admitted to himself that it felt nice to have physical contact with someone who was not actively trying to dog pile and slap you in handcuffs or whack you in the head with a mop.

As he watched the shrunken teen sleep, Kaito toyed with the idea of pranking the detective awake, but ultimately decided against it. It would not do to damage the tentative trust they had established so early on, and so he resumed trying to wake the boy through conventional methods. "Come on, Shinichi-san, wake up."

"Ten more minutes," the child mumbled into his chest, hiding his face in Kaito's shirt. The thief vaguely wondered how the boy had not yet suffocated.

Time to play a little more dirty. "Shinichi-san," he said, allowing a whine to tinge his voice, "I _really_ have to use the toilet…"

"So go," came the muffled response.

Kaito huffed theatrically. "I _would_ , but I seem to have a limpet attached to me that answers to the name Kudou Shinichi…"

That got Shinichi's attention, though he only lolled his head back to blink blearily at the thief with a confused expression. Kaito cleared his throat and pointedly looked down at his shirt. The drowsy detective followed the amused thief's gaze to find his hands clenching fistfuls of cotton. He instantly released the fabric with a squeak as though he had been burned by hot coals, backpedaling rapidly across the bed like an awkward crab.

"Oi, you'll fall off the—" Kaito winced as child disappeared over the edge of the bed with a started yelp and subsequent thump, "—bed…" taking half the bedding with him. The thief peered over the side of the bed, stifling laughter at the sight of the boy flat on his back, tangled in the comforter and red as maguro sashimi. A huff of mirth escaped past the magician's Poker Face. "Here." He reached down and pulled the detective back onto the bed with the bedding. After ensuring the thoroughly mortified Shinichi was in no danger of falling off once more, Kaito nonchalantly scooted off the mattress. "I'm going to clean myself up and make us breakfast, then we're going to talk about that disguise. You can sleep a little more if you like," he said, digging out fresh clothing from his closet and setting them on his desk. "These are for you. Smallest clothes I have. Bathroom is down the hall, door across from the stairs. Toothbrush and other toiletries will be on the countertop for you, as will a fresh towel should you decide to shower." He dug around the closet again for a set of clothes for himself, discretely checking to make sure the rotating portrait of his father leading to Kaitou KID's workroom was locked and secure on his way out before exiting his room.

Freshened up for the day, he started the washing machine after dumping a small scoop of detergent and headed to the kitchen to prepare a western dish of crêpes for breakfast. He set out plates, glasses, and utensils for two, and cartons of milk and orange juice on the table. Shinichi shuffled into the kitchen twenty minutes later, rubbing his eyes tiredly as Kaito deftly spread out crêpe batter on the round griddle. "Ohayo," he greeted the detective cheerfully.

"Morning," the boy mumbled back, shuffling into the kitchen dressed in a pair of Kaito's old gym shorts and a tee shirt. He slid into a chair while clearly avoiding the magician's gaze, glancing around in confusion when he did not see any sign of coffee on the table. "Kaito-san?" The teenager hummed in questioning response as he watched the griddle. "Why isn't there any coffee?"

"I don't usually drink coffee," Kaito replied absently as he slid the crêpe onto the top of the short stack. Mind catching up to the question, he stifled the urge to groan miserably. _Of_ course _he has to have a caffeine addiction. Kami-sama give me strength, for this is not going to be pretty…_ "You realize that your caffeine habit will have to go, right?" he asked, bracing himself for the explosion as he poured the last of the batter onto the griddle. He was not wrong.

"I have to—wait _what?!_ " Shinichi squawked, clutching the glass of juice that he had just poured, now fully alert. "Why do I have to give it up?"

 _It is seriously_ way _too early for this,_ Kaito groused, and he rallied his patience. "Normal six year olds do _not_ drink coffee, much less enjoy _black_ coffee the way you do," Kaito explained, keeping an eye on the cooking batter even as he sent his houseguest a serious look. "If you were closer to fifteen or so, it'd be reasonable since that's when students have to start worrying about entrance exams for high school. Then they start cramming to boost grades and use caffeine to stay awake. But at six years?" the magician shook his head. "And to be frank, we've no idea how long you are going to be in this situation. You're going to have to figure out another way to get your morning jump start, Shinichi-san."

The boy cursed. Loudly. And emphatically. Kaito raised his brows at some of the epithets coming out of the shrunken teenager's mouth and whistled in appreciation. "You hang around Nakamori-keibu often? I can't imagine that you'd learn that anywhere else."

The detective glared stonily at the phantom thief. "Shut up," he growled, mood entirely soured.

Kaito shot him an entertained but chiding stare. "Che. You know, you're making it rather difficult for me to remember why I'm bothering to help you in the first place…" he grumbled aloud as he brought the stack of crêpes to the table, along with a smaller platter of sliced strawberries, a bowl of powdered sugar, and a bottle of chocolate syrup. Shinichi plucked a crêpe off the stack and added a healthy pile of strawberries, lightly dusting them with the sugar. "Hold still, I want to check your head." The gauze had slipped off sometime during the night, and Kaito gently prodded the area with careful fingertips. When he was satisfied with his inspection, he told the boy no more bandaging would be necessary and sat down at his seat.

Shinichi blinked, perplexed, as he watched Kaito dust on a half-centimeter-thick layer of powdered sugar followed by a generous drizzle of the chocolate syrup on his crêpe, and rubbed his jaw back by the molars with a faint look of queasiness and revulsion as he stared at it. "You're going to go into diabetic shock," he stated grumpily, staring at Kaito's sugary concoction as the magician finally topped it off with a smattering of strawberries. "Either that or you're going to get extremely fat."

The phantom thief huffed in mock indignity while clutching his chest before he grinned and winked cheekily. "High metabolism. That and a lot of running around helps keep my girlish figure." Shinichi snorted, but made no further comment and they finished breakfast in pensive, if companionable, silence. "Is there anyone you need to inform of your… condition?" Kaito finally asked as he wiped off the griddle surface after finishing with washing the dishes.

Shinichi was drying and stacking them on the countertop with the aid of a stepstool Kaito had scrounged up, and he paused in his task, frowning as he thought. "Agasa Hiroshi-hakase," Shinichi finally decided. When Kaito raised a brow in a silent request for an explanation, the boy expounded, "He's an inventor who lives next door to me and whom I have known since I was a… child…" The diminutive detective paused at the statement, a whirlwind of emotions flickering across his face. Kaito busied himself with rinsing the washcloth of oil from the griddle, giving the shrunken teenager time to collect himself. "Agasa-hakase might be able to formulate an antidote to whatever poison I was force-fed," he concluded quietly.

"Okay, but he'll need the original in order to make an antidote, won't he?" Wiping his hands dry, Kaito studied the child with sharp indigo eyes. "What about your parents?"

The shrunken teenager scoffed. "My parents are currently off gallivanting around the world in an effort to keep Tou-san's editors at bay. Kaa-san's just along for the ride. They rarely make it back to Japan, much less Tokyo."

Kaito blinked. "Right. We'll visit Agasa-hakase this evening then. Luckily for us, it's Golden Week, so we have the holiday to at least _start_ sorting out your situation." He was grateful that Aoko had managed to badger her father into taking a much-needed vacation that took them to one of the hot springs in the mountainous interior for the week right after Kaito's heist yesterday; in fact the father-daughter pair had left early this morning, though luckily _after_ he and Kudou had conked out for what was left of the night, and were not expected to return until Sunday afternoon. Even better, Hakuba had opted to spend the week of vacation in England with his mother's side of the family. The serendipitous windfall gave the two hopefully enough time to thrash out a longer-term solution for the sleuthing teenager-turned-child. The phantom thief drifted out of the kitchen, the detective trailing quietly behind him back to the living room. Ideas bounced around in Kaito's head as he generated and discarded places Shinichi could live at. Again the problem of someone taking in an unknown six year old was unlikely; maybe he could be passed off as a distant relative? But a relative of whom? Perhaps a talk with this Professor Agasa would yield some new ideas, the man having known Shinichi since his youth—first childhood, he supposed. Kaito settled on one of the couches absently, now debating whether he should appear as himself or as Kaitou KID.

There was an exceptionally awkward silence that hung heavily between them for a while, with Kaito lost in his own thoughts and Shinichi fidgeting restlessly on the other end of the couch. "So… about disguising…" he started tentatively, breaking Kaito out of his mental meandering.

"Eh? Right," the thief mumbled, wrestling his mind back to the current situation. "Disguising." He twisted in his seat and turned a penetrating indigo stare on Shinichi, who sat uncomfortably under Kaito's scrutiny. "Definitely need to do something about the hair," he muttered to himself after a few moments, leaning his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingertips together before his lips, and Shinichi reflexively patted his hair defensively. "Colored contacts? No…" The detective remained silent, allowing the magician's mind to work through various possible disguises. Shinichi jumped when Kaito suddenly asked, "If you're terrible at lying, then I take it you can't act all that well either?"

Flushing, the boy replied, "No, not really, though I suppose I could in a pinch…"

Kaito hummed, deep in thought as he continued to stare unblinkingly at the child, which Shinichi found to be just a little more than unnerving. "A disguise is all about the details," Kaito said beginning to lecture quietly, his focus coming back to the present. "If people notice a slight deviation in behavior or some small detail that is out of place or out of the norm, it automatically and exponentially increases their suspicion of you. No doubt you have used that same concept to determine who the murderer was in your cases, no?" Shinichi nodded, listening attentively. "So in order to successfully camouflage yourself, you need to not only act like whoever you want to be, you need to _become_ whoever you want to be. You need to believe with every fiber of your being that you are whoever you say you are, and that the person you are trying to be does not exist only skin deep."

Kaito leaned back on his end of the couch. "That being said, let's work through your personality. It will give me an idea of how far I can push you to become someone else without you slipping up by accident." And so began the most comprehensive interrogation Kaito had ever done to a single person, though in reality they were all simply questions he would ask himself whenever he was preparing to impersonate somebody else for an extended period of time. They covered everything: name, age, birthday, hobbies, favorite foods, nervous habits, unconscious habits, phobias, sexual orientation, previous cases, religious beliefs… The list went on, and not only did Kaito listen to Shinichi's answers, he watched the boy's body language as he responded. Oftentimes body language gave away so much more than what the speaker realized, and Kaito was banking on the fact that the child had no idea what he was broadcasting unconsciously.

They worked through anything and everything Kaito could think of, and by the time lunch hour rolled around Kaito had a detailed idea of who was Kudou Shinichi, what his likes and dislikes were, what motivated and discouraged him, how he reacted to different situations—the list went on and on, though they had yet to touch upon the incident which actually led to Shinichi's shrinking. Kaito had even asked the shrunken detective to try impersonating several fictional characters to access his acting capabilities, as well as singing—which was _terrible_. Shinichi himself looked quite wrung out from the ordeal after Kaito had wrapped up his version of the Spanish Inquisition, not to mention highly embarrassed by a number of the questions Kaito had posed.

"Thanks for answering everything," Kaito said with a worn smile. "I know how taxing that can be. Now, let's start with a name and we'll flesh it out with a background. You're going to want something disassociated from Kudou Shinichi, but I think we can work it so that you could be a relative so it could explain away some of your… quirks."

Shinichi presented the gentleman thief with a deadpan stare. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, slightly bristling.

"Aspects of your personality that are hardwired and not easily changed—my personal definition, at least," Kaito replied smoothly. "For instance, your insatiable need to investigate everything under the sun if it happens under your nose; your desire to protect others at the expense of your own health; your obsessive love for all things soccer and Sherlock Holmes; your curiosity turning your normally logical self into someone impulsive and even reckless; your longstanding crush on Mouri Ran-san that sometimes turns you into a blushing idiot—"

"Oi!"

"—your inability to sing despite the fact that you have a decent ear; you know, things like that," Kaito said with a dismissive wave of his hand, unperturbed by Shinichi's indignant outburst. "Those are things I need to take into consideration and work around in order to build your disguise. So, what name would you like to go by?" He grinned craftily. "I'll even be nice and let you keep your gender."

Shinichi gaped in alarm. " _What?!_ "

Kaito shrugged easily. "Your disguise would separate you that much more from Kudou Shinichi if you could pretend to be female. But as your acting ability is far from satisfactory, I'm letting that option slide. Though, you have a surprising flair for the dramatic—probably from your mom. I'm thinking a somewhat distant relative to Kudou Shinichi. Any surnames off the top of your head from your family tree?"

The miniaturized detective shook his head. "My parents were both the only children of their parents. So as far as I know, I don't have any cousins."

"Excellent." The thief grinned. "That makes it a lot easier for me, then."

Shinichi raised a brow. "You?"

Kaito chuckled. "Yes, me. How else would your new alter ego exist without the appropriate paperwork?"

The detective closed his eyes and counted ten slow, regulated breaths. Kaito watched with a small amount of devilish delight as a vein pulsed in the boy's temple. When he opened his eyes again, he glared at the thief. "You're going to forge official documentation?"

"Nan da?" the thief asked flatly with a raised brow. "Did you honestly expect you'd be able to waltz about as an illegal immigrant or something?"

The miniaturized teen opened his mouth to say something but stopped, his gaze dropping to the side as he visibly wilted. Kaito had a fairly decent idea as to what was going through the boy's mind, but gave him the time he needed to pull himself together. After several minutes of silence, the phantom thief broke it with, "Edogawa." When the child blinked owlishly at him, he expounded with a sympathetic expression on his face, "Your new surname, 'Edogawa'. Since it can't have anything to do with your much-loved Holmes or Sir Doyle, why not another fellow mystery writer, Edogawa Rampo? But since I'm sure you want to pay homage to your fictional idol in some way, why don't we use 'Conan'? Using either 'Sherlock' or 'Holmes' is too obvious, but 'Conan' doesn't quite pin you down as a Holmes fanatic, so… 'Edogawa Conan' has a bit of a ring, wouldn't you agree?"

"'Edogawa Conan'? What kind of name is that?" Shinichi asked, mild distaste written on his face.

Kaito grinned widely. "It's definitely a name Kudou Shinichi would not ever want to be called—hence the fact that it actually works rather well." Shinichi stared at Kaito with a look of surprise that eased itself into bashful appreciation. Kaito snickered at the expression. "No doubt you were expecting something completely outlandish, am I right?"

The detective chuckled ruefully. "Well, you wouldn't be wrong," he said. "I thought you would start off with a name yanked from some manga like… I don't know… L Lawliet, or something."

Kaito laughed. "That name _would_ be a name befitting of your work, wouldn't it? Though, wouldn't that make me Yagami Light?" he asked, though with some distaste. "Not sure I like being labeled as a megalomaniacal murdering psychopath, however much of a prodigy he is."

"Whoever said _you_ were my archrival, barou?" Shinichi inquired archly.

"Whoever said I _wasn't_?" countered Kaito, grinning like the madman he most of the time was. "Because I'm brilliant enough to _always_ escape, even from you, Meitantei-san. Although," he said with a thoughtful expression, "on one of my heists I nearly got caught. It was strange, because it was like whoever it was could predict my every move." His eyes lit up in remembered exhilaration. "In retrospect, that heist was sort of fun, though not at the time because I had been panicking a bit." His expression flattened. "And… I was shot at by some idiot in a helicopter."

"You have a strange idea of what 'fun' entails," Shinichi said dryly, but grinned in reply with fondness softening his eyes. "Well, there was this one time Megure-keibu took me to a case that involved a thief and the Ekoda clock tower. It was rather refreshing to work on a case that did not involve dead bodies."

They both blinked as realization hit them sideways with a crowbar. "Wait, that was _YOU?!_ " they simultaneously shouted in disbelief.

Kaito slapped a hand to his forehead before sliding it down to cover his mouth, his guffaws stifled. "You gave me more panic attacks that one _night_ than I'd had in the previous five _years_ , Shinichi-san."

Shinichi laughed as well. "I had to admit that it was fun, though I was rather put out that I was outsmarted end, especially right before the final unveiling at your magic show, Kaito-san."

When their laughter at the irony of the situation had died down, Kaito turned serious eyes on Shinichi. "So?" he asked, getting a questioning eyebrow raise in return. He felt something in his core tense in wariness at the idea of sharing his secrets and he shifted uncomfortably, but pressed on. "Since I forced you to tell me in grueling detail practically every aspect of your life, is there anything you would like to ask of me?"

The detective's eyes widened at the unexpected offer and Kaito internally grinned at the temporarily rendered speechless boy. "You would…" Shinichi swallowed, gathering his scattered wits. "You—but—why?"

The phantom thief adopted an expression of exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Maybe it's because I just pried your life open with all the finesse of cracking open an egg with a sledgehammer?" he suggested. His face smoothed out to something more congenial and sincere. "Usually I go about doing background research on someone first. And even then, if I decide I want to acquaint myself with them I tease their secrets out; it's like listening for the click of tumblers in a lock you don't have the combination for—you have to have a careful, steady hand and a good ear to listen." Now his expression became troubled, mirroring the apprehension he felt inside. "But in your situation, time is of the essence, and we do not have the luxury of dawdling. So, I feel it's only fair to reciprocate, considering the sheer amount of information you've willingly given me is more blackmail material than I know what to do with. So… ask away."

Shinichi's eyes were clear and bright, the purity of nameless emotions that radiated from them stealing Kaito's breath away. The shrunken teenager's mouth worked silently as he blinked, and the magician waited anxiously for the barrage of questions he was sure the detective had. Curiosity was, after all, a trait shared by both phantom thieves and detectives alike—that and stubborn determination. Shinichi abruptly laughed, dumbstruck. "I have so many questions, that I don't even know where to start," he said ruefully, shaking his head. "And I know that the answers I am most curious about are the ones you probably want to share the least." His eyes finally dropped to his hands, clasped on his lap. "That you are willing to go this far to help a virtual stranger…" he murmured quietly, almost as if talking to himself, "I'd practically forgotten that people as altruistic, as genuinely _good_ as you—criminal activities notwithstanding—existed, particularly since I seem to trip over murder cases on a near-daily basis." He raised his gaze to meet the phantom thief's with a gentle smile on his lips, and once again the depth of emotion visible in those eyes was arresting. "People like you are part of the reason I try so hard to catch murderers, so…" He paused, struggling to find the words adequate enough to express his thoughts. "Thank you…" he said finally, "for making my efforts worthwhile."

"I…" Kaito groped for words to respond, but Shinichi's unexpected candor had rendered the normally eloquent thief speechless. Already he could feel his cheeks heating up from the unanticipated adulation.

"So…" Shinichi said after a few moments, "I'm not going to pry into your affairs however curious I am, though I will admit I'm practically salivating at the knowledge that you're offering. I'm positive you have reasons for doing what you do, and even though Kaitou KID is considered a criminal, he's still a good person because he doesn't hurt anyone and returns what he steals." There was real warmth in the smile sent his way.

The tension within Kaito uncoiled at Shinichi's words, and he nearly collapsed on the spot. The miniaturized detective would not pry. Kaitou KID's secrets could remain undisclosed, if he so desired. But because he had made such an offer, Kaito found himself wanting to confide in Shinichi. When he stepped back and looked, their situations really were not all that dissimilar. He decided then that he would tell the detective his tale, eventually, in bits and pieces, at his own pace.

They were truly equals in all the ways that mattered: both prodigies in their own right—though Kaito's particular brand of brilliance sat just this side of insanity and smiled at genius on the other side of the fence, if he said so himself—both caught up in a fight between some mysterious organization with sinister and murderous agendas, both requiring to hide their true selves for the safety of those around them.

"I'm honored by your praise," Kaito said, throat closing a little, and he fought to express his surprise, respect, and gratitude, "and I hope that I prove deserving of your commendation, Shinichi-san."

The boy smiled sadly and shook his head. "Not Kudou Shinichi—not any more, Kaito-san. Edogawa Conan," he said, reintroducing himself as he slid off the couch and bowed formally. "Please take care of me."

* * *

Author's Note: And Edogawa Conan is born! The initial foundations for a friendship are built, but what an emotionally taxing chapter to write! Kaito offered Shinichi a pink rose because in hanakotoba, or Japanese flower language, pink roses represent trust, happiness, and confidence, while yellow roses indicate jealousy—rather different from what colored roses symbolize in the West, no? And I purposely fudged timelines a little, since I know DC started in 1996 while _Death Note_ did not make an appearance until 2003, but the reference was too good to pass up. Also, just a heads up, but this is a relatively short story, chapter-wise—not word-wise. And thank you all so much! I was blown away by your receptiveness, and I hope I didn't disappoint with this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 21.04.2015


	3. II: Saturday, April 30

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

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Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

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II: Saturday, April 30

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 _Definitely hair,_ Kaito thought as he trotted back to his house, bags containing several containers of yakitori, gyoza, vegetable tempura, rice, and dango, several bags of fried snacks, a couple bars of chocolate, and several bottles of carbonated fruit drinks from White Duck in hand for lunch. _That cowlick of his is much too characteristic of Kudou Shinichi, I think, but I don't think I can change the direction in which his hair grows, so… color, perhaps?_ It really was strange, watching a younger doppelgänger of himself walking around his house. Kaito had given Shinichi—to be now known as Edogawa Conan—a walking tour of his home. Before he had left to buy the pair food, he had handed the detective his laptop—clean of anything incriminating—asking him to pull up as many news articles of his former self's exploits—or more specifically, his pictures—as he could find. The phantom thief was after the pictures, to both get a more accurate image of Kudou Shinichi and to figure out how outwardly he could change Conan's appearance.

"I'm back," he called, toeing off his shoes and slipping his feet into his house shoes.

"Welcome home," a voice called back from the living room.

 _And voice,_ the thief thought. _Voice is a little too deep for a child of six. Diction too, is too mature, unless he wants to be known as a child prodigy._ He set the boxes of food on the table as Conan ambled over, tripping slightly on the hem of his borrowed shorts. _Maybe some other aspects of his true self besides his brain made it into his new body?_ They hungrily dug in, Kaito flipping through the images of Kudou Shinichi on the laptop as he ate. Kaito noticed a few minimized windows from the Internet browser with several searches on Kaitou KID and grinned. "Background research, Conan-kun?" he asked breezily.

Conan grinned. "Of course," he replied. "Did you think I wouldn't?" the boy asked rhetorically before refocusing on his meal.

After the thief finished scrutinizing each of the photos, he turned a hard gaze onto Conan, studying him intently. The boy valiantly refrained from squirming, though it was clear he was uncomfortable under such focused observation.

A thought drifted across his mind and Kaito blinked, his concentration shattered. It was honestly a good question, and one he had meant to voice at some point in the near future. Might as well be now. "So who'd you kill?" he asked casually, turning his attention back to his food and popping a piece of chicken from the yakitori into his mouth.

Unlike Kaito, Conan literally inhaled his rice when he heard the question and ended up choking. The thief watched, ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver if need be, but the boy managed to begin properly breathing again before the exercise became a necessity. "What?" he wheezed, blinking back the reflexive tears that had welled up in his eyes while he had coughed.

Kaito rested his chin on his left hand while his right skillfully twirled his chopsticks, his gaze lazily but intently trained on his houseguest. "You had to have done _something_ to get their attention. How exactly did you shrink? I saw those two men dressed in black; I saw how they knocked you out and fed you something. Do you have any information on those two men or what that stuff was?"

Conan shook his head. "I know nothing about them, only what you saw. They seemed to know who I was as the one that hit me said my 'detective game ends here', but then again they saw me solve a case when someone riding the Mystery Coaster with Ran and myself was beheaded prior to me getting shrunk. The pill they fed me was an experimental poisonous drug, and they mentioned that I would be their first human test case. Apparently it's undetectable once ingested. However, right before they left the one that hit me said, 'Abayo, Meitantei…' 'Meitantei' is a recent nickname the officers and media have started calling me after I'd solved a few cases with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department."

"… beheaded?" Kaito repeated, nose wrinkling in revulsion.

"Un," the boy agreed. "The murderer was a gymnast who was also the former girlfriend of the victim. She used a piano wire strung into her necklace and a grappling hook, looped it over the victim's head while we were in a tunnel, and the velocity of the coaster cart sliced his head off when she used the hook to catch on the rails. Because she was gymnast she was able to—"

"Okay, okay, I get it…" Kaito shivered. He never understood why people killed others—especially if it was done because they loved the one they killed. But with regards to the other information the detective had provided…

The phantom thief sat back in his chair, mind racing. An experimental drug that de-aged someone, though that aspect was an unforeseen and highly improbable result. A gem that, when held up to the full moon under the light of the Volley Comet, would shed tears of immortality. The men in black outfits, who would do whatever it took to cover their footprints, and were part of a large underground syndicate. _It's too coincidental. It definitely has to be related, one way or another,_ Kaito thought. It was even possible that this experimental drug was a derivative of Pandora, and that sometime back this organization had lost the fabled gem. That or it had been stolen, and they were hell-bent on retrieving it.

"You know something, don't you?" Conan asked shrewdly, eyeing the magician.

Kaito grinned, Poker Face in full effect. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," he said in a slightly singsong tone with a shrug. "But at any rate, I would like to sort out my thoughts a little before I share my conjectures, however farfetched they might be. Need to get it all straightened out in my head first, adding in what you've told me. If it has even the smallest relevance to your situation, I promise to share it with you. But if it doesn't, then…"

The shrunken teen nodded in concession. "Fair enough."

The magician stood and began clearing the table. "Come on, Conan-kun, let's clean up before we take you clothes shopping since I doubt you want to run around in mine. Your choices will help me further build your persona, and we can talk about disguising while we're out and about."

They spent the afternoon browsing various shops for both new and used clothing around Nerima City, with Kaito doing all of the purchasing. Conan, as a six year old, would have garnered very odd looks if he had walked up to a register and pulled out Kudou Shinichi's credit card. As it was, the boy had already stubbornly declared that he would reimburse the magician when he had the chance for all of the expenses incurred on his behalf. Kaito had simply grinned and ruffled his hair with his free hand, purposely forcing Conan's hair to mimic his own messy style and reinforcing the image of the two posing as brothers, though the younger boy had swatted at the teen's hand in irritation but missed.

"Will you stop that?" Conan hissed as he combed through his hair with his fingers before trying to pat it down as the pair headed back to the train station to catch the Seibu Ikebukuro Line rail back to Kaito's home. He was wearing one of his new outfits, the style louder than what he would have preferred since he preferred plain, solid colors. Kaito, however, had contended that boys his age—physical, not actual—generally liked bright colors and flashy graphics. And so now after much compromising he strolled down the street wearing a bold blue checked collared shirt over a plain white tee, khaki shorts, red sneakers, and a pair of oversized glasses. Conan had initially balked at the frames since he had perfect vision, but Kaito had insisted, citing it was one more way to differentiate between Edogawa Conan and Kudou Shinichi. So instead of beginning instruction in the basics of more child-like behavior for Edogawa Conan, the pair had ended up spending most of their time arguing over clothing choices.

Kaito raised a brow at his "younger brother," redistributing the bags from one hand into both. "We're supposed to look like we're related. Having hair that resembles mine will reinforce that image."

The younger boy glared at his "older brother," ambient light glinting off his non-prescription lenses. "I get that, but I don't want to run around looking like a 'Mini-Me' of you!"

"Oi!" the thief protested in mock offense, though he grinned as he held up a pointed pinky finger to the corner of his lips for a moment, "I'll have you know I cut a rather dashing figure, if I do say so myself. You should be thankful that you'll grow up to look like me, Conan-kun!" he said with more than a hint of puckish delight glittering in his eyes.

Conan mimed vomiting in his mouth, clapping a hand over the lower half of his face. "Gods, you are so full of yourself, _Kaitou-nii-san_. How do you ever manage to stay upright with a head as big as yours?"

Kaito smirked. "You're one to talk with your ostentatious deduction shows, _Meitantei-san_ ," he teased quietly enough not to be overheard by passersby. So far he had done his best not to allow the detective to sulk about his situation, keeping him mentally too busy to slide into the depression he knew followed situations like this—thus the teasing.

"Don't," the boy interjected harshly, tilting his head down so that the reflection from his glasses hid his eyes even as they continued walking down the busy sidewalk, and the magician immediately realized his mistake as he watched Conan's face crumple. "Just… don't. That's not who I am…" There was a pause, and Kaito had to strain his ears to hear the added, "… not anymore."

The thief swiftly freed a hand of its baggage and gently but firmly clamped it on Conan's shoulder, steering them to a spot out of the way of traffic. He set the bags on the pavement and twisted the detective so that they were face to face with him kneeling on the ground, hands on the child's shoulders. "Don't start Shinichi-san," he said quietly and with a tone of warning, using his—friend?—ally?—rival?—dependent?—his true name to emphasize how serious he was. "Don't start thinking you'll never get back to where you used to be. If you allow yourself to lose hope from the very onset, you've lost the war before it's even started."

He recalled his own experiences, the first time just after his father died and he had considered quitting magic altogether, and the second time when he had learned his father had actually been murdered by a crime syndicate with more people and resources than he knew what to do with. Conan's eyes remained on the sidewalk, his expression visibly indicating how upset he was. Some Poker Face lessons were in his near-immediate future, it seemed. "Look at me," Kaito entreated, and the shrunken teenager slowly raised his eyes. "Shinichi-san, keep in mind that by all rights you should be dead. But you're not. You've been de-aged, true, but you're still alive. You're still here, and therefore you still have a chance to expose them and take them down, right?"

A small half smile curved the boy's lips before he sighed sardonically. "Yeah," he exhaled at length, "You're right. I just… I should know better…"

Kaito shrugged slightly. "It happens to the best of us. You're in an unprecedented situation; it's expected that you would react _somehow_ to it. But just… don't lose sight of what you still have, yeah?" Kaito smiled encouragingly, though it soon turned a bit more mischievous. "And besides, since you've teamed up with the internationally infamous Kaitou KID, it's possible the impossible _can_ become possible—ne, Conan-kun?" he said with a wink.

Conan snorted at that with wry humor. " _You_ are _impossible_ ," he remarked, eyes once again bright, though the shadows of resignation lingered behind them.

"I aim to please," was his cheeky rejoinder. Conan rolled his eyes in response, an amused quirk curving his lips. Knowing that was as good as he was going to get, Kaito grabbed the bags in one hand and straightened, offering his free hand to the youth. "Come on. Let's find a snack to eat, my treat. What would you like? Personally I like ice cream, the more chocolate the better."

The boy gingerly took the thief's hand, small fingers curling around Kaito's long, slim digits, and Kaito once again marveled at how tiny Conan's body was compared to his. Were all six year olds this small? It made him realize how fragile a child's body was, and he recalled the previous night where he had instinctively manhandled the shrunken detective with as much carefulness as he could under the circumstances.

"I don't really like sweets," Conan replied, oblivious to the magician's musings, though his answer startled Kaito out of his thoughts.

"You… don't… like… sweets…?" he said blankly before he repeated with mounting dismay, "you don't like _sweets?!_ " His horrified expression had the detective wincing. "How could you possibly even _say_ such—such blasphemy?!" he wailed. "Wait, how am I even _related_ to you again?!"

By now they had caught the attention of those immediately surrounding them, and Conan had flushed a bright cherry red. " _Nii-san_ ," he hissed through gritted teeth, belatedly remembering to keep in character, "would you mind stop making a spectacle of yourself?"

"But you don't have a love of all things sugary and sweet!" Kaito moaned. "Why do I have a younger brother who doesn't like sugary confections?"

"Lemon cake," Conan offered hurriedly, and the thief was brought up short. "I like lemon cake, don't you remember?" he verbally prodded.

A wide grin curved the magician's lips and he said, "How could I have forgotten!" He slapped a hand on his forehead dramatically. "Well come on then! I know a bakery that I've heard has exceptionally wonderful cakes!" And snatching Conan's hand, he pulled his younger brother off in the direction of the shop, a bounce in his step as he hummed happily under his breath. Conan, for his part, stumbled as he was dragged in the wake of his hyper and melodramatic older brother.

They ended up sitting on a bench in a small park after visiting Pâtisserie Ueno. Kaito had bought a slice of lemon cake for Conan, along with a wedge of chocolate cake for himself and a handful of canalés the bakery was particularly known for. They munched in comfortable silence on their respective snacks, watching rosy clouds inch across an early evening, gold-hued sky. "Ne, Kaito-san?" Conan asked quietly after he had finished his cake and wiped his mouth clean of crumbs, his voice soft and hesitant.

"Hmm?" replied Kaito absently, nibbling a canalé. When no question was immediately forthcoming, the magician transferred his attention from the dessert in his hand to the boy at his side, though he remained quiet and allowed the shrunken teen to herd his thoughts into some semblance of coherence. When it seemed as though Conan had no idea how to put into words what he was thinking and feeling, Kaito took the initiative, having an idea of what the shrunken detective wanted to talk about.

"It's hard, especially at first—learning to live with telling lies every day of your life. Combined with the pressure of knowing that if you slip up even the slightest bit, you put your loved ones in grave danger… it's overwhelming at best and devastatingly crippling if you let it get to you." He finished his canalé, licking his fingertips before wiping his mouth and hands with a napkin and leaning back in the bench, his gaze wandering up into the burnished heavens. "When Oyaji died when I was eight, his death had been explained away as an accident—malfunctioning equipment during one of his shows." His voice was soft but rough with still raw emotion, full of longing and admiration. "It wasn't until the first reappearance of Kaitou KID that I found out that he didn't die by accident, but that it was premeditated murder, framed to look as though it had been accidental. Oyaji was as meticulous with his magic shows as I am with my heists—and I am absolutely paranoid about _every_ _little detail_ regarding my equipment—which means that I have backup plans for my backup plans." Kaito's gaze fell to his hands, which he held palms up and curled them into fists. "These people—this organization that wore black for all of their 'jobs'—had approached him with hope that he would find a mythical gem for them—a gem known as Pandora. They wanted to find Pandora with the intent of obtaining an elixir that the jewel would produce under the light of the combined full moon and the Volley Comet; an elixir that would grant the drinker immortality."

Kaito could feel Conan's incredulous stare and returned it with a sad, wry grin. "Sounds surreal, doesn't it? But then again, who would have thought an experimental drug could shave ten years off a person?" Gazing back up into the deepening sky, the phantom thief continued. "So here I am, a few handfuls of heists into being Kaitou KID, chasing after a jewel that I'm not even sure exists—just to ensure that they don't get their hands on it."

"So what happens when you find it?"

"I'm going to destroy it." The statement was said with such conviction that Conan blinked. Kaito blew a sigh through his nose. "I'm going to make sure that no one will kill for that gem again. If one group of idiots got it in their heads that they would murder for the chance at immortality, who's to say someone else might get the same idea?" Kaito's eyes found Conan's. "I will ensure that Oyaji did not die in vain, and I will make sure that no one else gets hurt in the process—be it those close to me or the random bystander."

The youth turned his eyes to his hands, which rested in his lap. "Do you think your men in black are the same as mine?" asked Conan quietly.

Kaito carefully considered the question. "I'm not sure, but I would wager that they are probably different branches of the same organization. And if that's the case, you need to be extremely careful." The warning in the magician's voice was abundantly clear. "They are ruthless and extremely good at covering their tracks, from what I gathered from the few run-ins I've had with them. They didn't take my family out when he died out of some perverse sense of pity, but I know—as does Kaa-san—that it's a false sense of security. They know who we are, and can come after us at any moment." There was pain in the eyes of the phantom thief. "So far I've managed to trick them into thinking that I am Kuroba Touichi, and that they had failed to kill me all those years ago. I'm just glad that Kaa-san is out of the country. If she wasn't, I'd force her out. I'm just glad they haven't made a move yet, so it's just me for now…"

Conan turned away from Kaito to stare at his hands. The thief watched as the boy's body language screamed of shame and guilt, and Kaito supposed that KID's actual purpose had taken the detective by surprise. And all things considered, KID's intent was actually rather noble, if one was privy to that sort of information. Time to kick the boy out of his self-imposed funk.

"So since you asked me a rather difficult question, I'll throw one back at you," Kaito said, causing the child to glance up at him. "Why did you trust me?" he asked. "From the very beginning you only knew me as Kaitou KID, and even then we had never formally met. So why would you trust an absolute stranger with your life?"

Conan's eyes dropped to his lap, and when he answered it was hesitant and carefully worded. "Despite the fact that I sometimes help out Division One of the TMPD—homicide division—I still read the newspapers." He shot the thief a dry, flat look. "And you generally make the front page with your… exploits. But what wasn't reported in the news were the two gunshots heard immediately after the theft of the Blue Birthday Sapphire, which happened about two months ago. HQ was positively buzzing with everyone wondering if the heist and the shots were related." His gaze sharpened on the magician. "I'm of the belief that they _were_ related, considering the shells fired were found on the helipad of a tall office building—a perfect place for Kaitou KID to glide from."

The six year old propped his chin in his hand, focus turned inwards as he thought out loud. "Based on what I know, KID hasn't killed anyone, and he returns what he steals. Really the only thing he can be accused of is breaking and entering, and property damage—petty crimes in the grand scheme of things." His focus returned outward, and he glanced at the phantom thief. "KID is not a bad person, or even much of a criminal when it comes to down it; he has morals that he stands by, and does help the police when a situation arises that calls for it. KID is so different from the criminals that I deal with that I oftentimes wish more criminals would be just like him—just like you. That and I think I'm a pretty good judge of character. Does that answer your question, Kaitou-san?"

Kaito, for his part, grinned languidly though internally he was reeling. He knew he was not a truly terrible person, but to be vindicated by one of the brightest minds of his generation was flattering in the extreme—by a detective, no less—as well as somewhat embarrassing. While Kaito was used to and adored the attention of the masses, receiving honest praise from an individual was not something he was accustomed to in the least. "Aa, Meitantei-san." Grinning widely to hide his discomfiture, he bounced off the bench, grabbing the shopping bags and remaining canalés. "Let's head back and drop off your clothes, grab some dinner, then head over to Agasa-hakase's place. Sound like a plan?"

"Yup," Conan agreed, hopping off the bench. Kaito ruffled his hair again, earning another missed swat, and the two chuckled as they headed towards the train station with an easy camaraderie more firmly established between them.

* * *

A late dinner that night consisted of visiting a local ramen shop in Beika that Conan—when he had been Shinichi—had frequented whenever he had a case that ran long. The proprietress, a middle-aged woman with a kind smile, had initially mistaken Kaito for Shinichi, which the magician had hastily corrected. He even continued the illusion that Conan was his younger brother, introducing the shrunken detective to the lady. Kaito had requested the more exotic miso ramen, while Conan had ordered a traditional shoyu ramen. They slurped the noodles with vigor, both anxious to get to the home of Kudou Shinichi's eccentric inventor-neighbor. As they walked towards 2-Choume, 22-Banchi, Kaito began to lay out the new personality that Conan would adopt.

"We're not going to change that much about you, since most of it would be difficult to 'rewire,' as it were, Conan-kun. So you're going to be passed off as a genius distant relative of Kudou Shinichi with a head full of random trivia and a knack for deductive reasoning, the likes of which have not been matched by anyone in recent history, save your older self, Hattori Heiji, and Hakuba Saguru—all of whom are high school-aged and detective prodigies in their own right. You are an unknown here because you just transferred from America due to your parents having abrupt job transfers, and even in America you were not exposed to murders, so therefore have no publicity. You like soccer and reading, and excel in academics, but you should take care not to come off as too smart in school unless you want to draw the attention of our… _friends_. That and they might try to get you to skip a few grades. Unfortunately, you're going to have to enroll back in elementary—sorry, nothing I can do about that—though if you like I can get my own classwork to you so that you don't fall too far behind. That, of course, is highly dependent on who you end up living with. For now, we're going to have to time your first official appearance in public at least two weeks away, though a month would be ideal, since we don't want them to connect the current you to the former you. I'll let you keep your hair how you normally like it, but we _are_ going to dye it a lighter color, got it?"

"Yes yes," Conan grumbled, exasperation coloring his tone. He knew that Kaito was only trying to help, but was all this detail really necessary?

"You know, if you want this to truly be believable, you're going to want to inform your parents…" the thief broached. "That way if you come across any legal issues they can step in, albeit in disguise."

"I'm not involving them, Kaito-san!" the boy snapped fiercely. "It's too much of a danger to get them or anyone else involved. Isn't that why you'd keep your mother out of your affairs as well?"

Kaito held up his hands in surrender. "I'm just saying, though my situation is slightly different since I'm not masquerading as someone else twenty-four-seven. It would help, since I've already started thinking about all the documentation you'll need to be a real person. Having them know the names of Edogawa Conan's 'parents' would certainly keep everyone from getting their stories mixed up. I've already decided on the mother's and father's names to put on your birth certificate. Next will be vaccination records, health and dental history, and past academic career right now, though it's helpful to have Kudou Shinichi's files to base it all off of. I'll save your naturalization papers for last, since I have to create records for your 'parents' as well."

There was a pause. "I'm not even going to ask," Conan eventually stated, an eyebrow twitching at the thought of Kaito somehow having the ability to find his records in the national database of the Ministry of Justice.

"Good, because I wasn't going to tell you anyway." Kaito winked deviously. "Trade secret, after all."

Conan scoffed. "If you say so."

"Also, you realize you cannot go back to staying your house for the foreseeable future, right?" the thief said as they passed the gates to the Kudou residence. At Conan's sharp look, he expounded, "If these guys know who you are, they are going to be combing the obituaries for your name, so for tonight and tomorrow you should be fine. But when they discover that you are not listed in the next few days, they'll be by here to make a sweep of your house, if not several, since your death will be unaccounted for. I'd imagine they would be particularly keen on confirming your death since they used an experimental drug on you—the people who worked on that drug will be demanding results, after all."

Conan's eyes were wide with shock. "I—I hadn't thought about that…"

Kaito blew out a sigh. "Of course you wouldn't. You're not used to dealing with these types of criminals. Yet." And it saddened him to realize that Shinichi would learn—had to learn—very quickly.

They walked in silence until they cleared the Kudou property barrier before the thief asked, "So do you know how you are going to convince him that you are really a shrunken-down version of Kudou Shinichi? It is, after all, rather difficult to believe that someone could be de-aged."

The child shrugged. "I guess I'll just tell him things that other people wouldn't and couldn't know." His brow furrowed. "But how am I going to explain _you?_ "

"Me?" The phantom thief smiled enigmatically. "Oh, he's not going to meet Kuroba Kaito. That would cause all sorts of problems for my civilian life." They finally reached the perimeter gate for the Agasa residence, and Kaito unlatched the gate with ease, making no comment about the detective's sudden lack of stature before closing it securely behind them. "No, if anything, Agasa-hakase should only know that Kaitou KID is involved with your situation." When they reached the front door, Kaito melted into the darkness as Conan rang the doorbell, nimbly climbing one of the trees in the man's yard and then switching into Kaitou KID's outfit.

Before the shrunken teenager could ask what the thief planned on doing the professor answered the door, blinking at the child that gazed up at him. "May I help you?" asked the portly man with a questioning tone, clearly wondering why a child his age would be out after dark.

"Agasa-hakase!" exclaimed the boy with relief in his voice.

The inventor blinked once more. "Who are you?" he asked, clearly bewildered that this strange boy knew him, and even addressed him familiarly.

"It's me, Shinichi!" the shrunken detective said, pointing at himself.

"If you are a relative of Shinichi-kun's," he said with a confused but cheerful smile, "his house is next door."

The child scowled. "I _am_ Shinichi! If you don't believe me, I'll tell you all about yourself!" he said, clenching his fists in frustration. He pointed at his neighbor as he reeled out, "Agasa Hiroshi, fifty-two years old. You are a strange inventor. Although you claim to be a genius, all of your inventions are junk. And also, the mole on your butt has a long hair growing out of it!" From his vantage point, KID nearly fell off the limb as he stifled chortles at the child's furious monologue below. Well, he had known it would be difficult for the detective to convince anyone; _he_ certainly would have a hard time believing it had he not seen the before and after with his own eyes. However, his own experiences with the… supernatural… made him more amenable to otherwise inexplicable situations.

The mustached man took a step back in surprise. "That's definitely a secret only Shinichi-kun knows!" His gaze turned suspicious and he propped his chin on a hand. "Would that kid have blabbed all of my secrets?"

"It's not that. I _am_ Shinichi!" he insisted once more. The poor child appeared just shy of tearing his hair out in frustration, and KID held in a snicker. "I was forced to take a strange drug that made me shrink!"

That certainly caught the professor's attention. "Shrank because of drugs?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"Yes!" the boy agreed.

The inventor seemed to grow upset. "If there is such a drug, I want some proof! Strange kid," he snapped, roughly grabbing Shinichi's arm. "I'll take you to the police!" He stepped onto his porch and shut his front door, intent on following through despite Shinichi's protests. Time to step in.

The phantom thief leapt down from his perch, landing softly in the grass as the inventor quickly locked up. "I don't think that'd be a good idea, Agasa-hakase," he chided softly. The pair whirled towards the sound of his voice, and even in the gloom, he was sure they could easily see the stark white outfit characteristic of Kaitou KID beneath the shadows of the tree.

"Who are you?" the professor asked, instinctively shoving the child behind him protectively, though he refused to release his hold on the boy's arm.

"INTERPOL has me listed as Phantom Thief 1412, though most tend to know me by the moniker Kaitou KID." KID once more swept into a genteel bow before straightening both himself and his top hat. "Pleased to meet you." His monocle glinted in the dim light, sending his facial features further into shadow. "Now, I do believe it would not be in the best interests for everyone present if you decide to drag the poor boy to the police."

"And why is that?" the professor said warily, releasing the boy. Shinichi stepped away to give both give himself more space, and to watch the proceedings between Agasa and KID.

KID eyed the professor solemnly. "You wouldn't want to condemn that child behind you to death, now would you? Bringing him to the police would conclusively prove that Kudou Shinichi is, indeed, alive, when by all accounts he should be _dead_."

" _What?!_ " KID's statement brought the professor up short, and he twisted to stare at the child behind him. Shinichi stared right back, a resigned half-grin on his face. "Shinichi?" asked the inventor, his voice unsure.

"Yeah," he said, reluctantly agreeing with KID's words. "That would be me."

The inventor swiveled back and forth, glancing at both the phantom thief in his front lawn and the shrunken version of the teenaged detective who lived next door. "I don't—how—?"

"Would you mind if we discussed this in a place where there are no listening ears?" the youth asked, his eyes surveying the yard. "Also, KID-san is a necessary participant of this discussion."

"Ah… oh…" Agasa was clearly speechless, though he nodded and unlocked his door, beckoning in both the child and the internationally renowned jewel thief with a baffled, "Please come in."

"Excuse my intrusion," Shinichi said as he entered, and KID followed up with a quiet, "Pardon my intrusion." Agasa sent the phantom thief an utterly mystified glance, for what _thief_ —gentleman or otherwise—politely excused themselves whenever they visited someone else's property? KID snickered to himself. The unlikely duo toed their shoes off, and the professor wordlessly supplied them with slippers before leading them to his living room workspace. KID spared a more-than-cursory glance about the place, mentally noting various exit routes if he needed a quick getaway. After procuring tea for them the trio sat on the twin couches with Shinichi and KID on one side, Agasa on the other, staring at each other in stilted silence, though the thief had procured a deck of cards and was shuffling them absently. The white-clad magician had angled his hat so that it shadowed his face and kept his chin tilted down so that the professor had a difficult time discerning any distinguishing facial features of KID.

"I guess I should explain my situation in a little in more detail," the boy said after he had cleared his throat nervously, drawing the attention of both the inventor and the thief, who had been eying each other with wary interest and frank curiosity, respectively. He turned his attention to the coffee table between the couches as he began. "Yesterday—gods, was it only _yesterday?_ —Ran and I went to Tropical Land to celebrate her first place win in the Metropolitan Karate Championships. Someone was murdered on a roller coaster we were on, and while I was solving the case I noticed two suspicious men who were on the suspect list. They both wore all black—even gloves—and they seemed to be in somewhat of a hurry. And that man's eyes…" The shrunken detective shuddered in recollection. "Those were eyes of someone who had killed before. Yet they were not the perpetrators. So I had to let them go.

"Later that evening I spotted them again and tailed them, leaving Ran behind. I found them on the edges of the park behind a few storage sheds, one of them closing some sort of illegal transaction involving a lot of money and proof of gun smuggling. I'd forgotten about the other one, and he hit me in the back of the head before feeding me an experimental poison and leaving me to die."

KID watched the emotions cycle through the boy's eyes as he retold his tale. They were haunted in a way that no six year old's should ever be—or even a sixteen year old's. It sickened him to think that he and Kudou Shinichi were in reality the same age. The child's eyes turned inward as he continued.

"It hurt, changing, oh _gods_ did it hurt! It felt as though my bones were melting, my body on fire—and when I really think about it, I probably _did_ melt in a way. I almost had to, in order to lose that much body mass in such a short period of time. I wonder why my brain didn't cook in my skull…" he muttered the last part to himself, and KID felt himself grow a little nauseous at the thought. Shaking himself, the child continued. "I think I might have blacked out for a while from the sheer amount of pain. I came to a little while later, just before two of the park's security policemen found me. When I realized that they were addressing me as "boy", I knew something was wrong so I ran. And that's when I met KID-san." Shinichi turned his eyes to the thief, who gazed steadily back at him, expression neutral.

"Hakase," the boy said, addressing his lifelong neighbor, "KID-san saw everything that happened at Tropical Land from the moment I chased those two men. He knows who I really am, and has sworn himself to secrecy. As it stands I am completely in his debt, since he knows those men meant to kill me and that should he leak my identity I could very well and truly disappear." Shinichi fell silent, allowing the professor to absorb the information he had just given the elderly man while KID busied himself with practicing sleight of hand card tricks.

"So that's what really happened?" the professor asked after rubbing his moustache pensively. "The drug those men in black tested on you had a unique side effect and it made your body shrink."

"Apparently," was the child's bland rejoinder. "But you can help me, right, Hakase?" Shinichi's eyes glowed with hope behind the false lenses of his glasses. "Would you know how to make an antidote for this poison that would restore me?"

The inventor sighed heavily. "That'd be difficult, Shinichi-kun. I would need some of the original drug to identify the chemical basis, with because without it I wouldn't have the faintest idea of where to start."

"Then, I'll find where those people are, get the drugs, and give them to you!" Shinichi's eyes shone with determination.

"Just like that?" KID asked, finally inserting himself into the conversation. The neighbors turned to regard him quizzically.

"What do you mean?" the shrunken teenager asked, peeved by the thief's apparent lack of faith in his abilities.

But there was no censure in KID's tone, only the cool steadiness that bespoke of logical reasoning brought to its full conclusion. "Do you think that you can seek and find a hidden criminal organization designing experimental drugs, amongst other things, in the guise of a six year old? Who, might I remind, cannot tell anyone else that Kudou Shinichi-san is alive, and who also needs to _enroll back in primary school in order to stay off their radar?_ "

"But I can't stand around doing nothing!" Shinichi shot back angrily, jumping up to his feet on the couch. The fact that it only put him at eyelevel with the sitting thief infuriated him more for throwing his situation squarely back in his face, as if in mockery. "They need to pay for what they did—not just to me, but to the countless others that they have harmed or killed!"

The phantom thief watched him, unruffled by Shinichi's outburst. "I never said anything of the sort," replied KID, eyes serious and expression blank. "I promised I would help you, and I will—you will find them, and they will fall in the end. But, you need to once again be reminded of the circumstances you are now in." When the shrunken detective began to snarl something in reply, the thief continued. "You need to understand your mobility now is greatly limited by your age, as are your physical abilities and credibility. No one here knows who you are; they will all think you are just one particularly bright kid who recently moved from overseas. That being said," and here his eyes turned to the professor's, "Shinichi-san will still be Shinichi-san, and he will continue his sleuthing, I presume." The last was said with a small smirk, and the child responded with a sullen blush as he sat himself back down on the couch. KID resumed expounding his thoughts, "Considering his seeming penchant for sniffing out perilous situations, it would be advisable then, to provide him with some means of protecting himself tailored to his current form. I will leave that particular aspect of his disguise in your capable hands." The thief noticed that as he explained his rationale, Shinichi had cooled considerably, listening to his logic with grudging admiration and a touch of embarrassment. The phantom thief pushed on, addressing the professor once more. "It should be readily apparent to you that Shinichi-san's identity _must_ be kept secret—the fewer who know, the easier it is to keep and the safer he will be. I've already suggested his parents for legal purposes, but I think beyond that, I would highly _not_ recommend it."

"What about Ran-kun?" Agasa asked, looking worriedly at the shrunken teenager. He knew how close the two of them were, and how badly this secret would hurt them both.

Shinichi gazed at his neighbor with wide, heartbroken eyes. "She—she can't know. She absolutely _cannot_ know that Edogawa Conan is Kudou Shinichi." Determination and desperation blossomed in those mournful eyes. "I would _never_ forgive myself if anything happened to her."

* * *

Abayo – A rather rude way of saying, "Goodbye"

* * *

Author's Note: Again 1999 and 2002 for the _Austin Powers_ second and third movies, and 2014 for _Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso_ , if you caught the references… I feel like I'm getting rather caught up in a lot of little details, though it's necessary for future chapters in this fic. Almost done with the creation of Edogawa Conan! I hope you enjoyed it.

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Completed: 08.05.2015


	4. III: Saturday, April 30 – Sunday, May 1

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

* * *

III: Saturday, April 30 – Sunday, May 1

* * *

Kaitou KID was silent after Shinichi's pronouncement. After all, he too, had people who he cared too much to let them know of his alter ego. Each and every heist was a gamble, an invitation, and a dare for the organization he competed against to permanently take him out of the picture. And to add insult to injury, his childhood friend and crush, Nakamori Aoko, absolutely detested the gentleman thief for running circles around the Kaitou KID Task Force and its head, her father Nakamori Ginzo. He pushed those thoughts away, focusing on the issue at hand.

"I agree, Shinichi-kun," Agasa said slowly, heavily, "and I'm sorry that you had to make such a decision."

The shrunken detective shrugged, though the casualness of the gesture fooled neither of them. "If I had been more careful, I would never have had to make such a decision."

The phantom thief let the statement settle before he pushed the conversation forward. "Agasa-hakase, there is another reason why we sought you out for help, besides your abilities as an inventor. I have thought up a cover story for why he is here, but we need your cooperation in order for it to work."

The inventor nodded. "That's fine. What did you decide upon?"

"Edogawa Conan-kun was born and raised in America. His parents moved here for work, but then had to transfer at the last minute back overseas, and so they hastily left him in the care of Kudou Yukiko without really checking in with her first. I want there to be at least, if not more, a two-week discrepancy between Kudou Shinichi-san's disappearance and Edogawa Conan-kun's appearance. I want him to be known as a distant relative of the Kudous, but since it makes no sense to send a child here when the parents are off globetrotting and you are a good family friend, you've kindly agreed to take the boy in. However, that's the easy part. The part I have difficulty deciding is where Shinichi-san should stay for the duration of his time as Conan-kun. Considering Shinichi-san will want to work on this case when he's not in school, someone with connections to the police would be ideal." KID leaned back in the couch, resting his back on the backrest. "Would you have any ideas, Agasa-hakase?"

"Hmm," the professor hummed, brows furrowing in thought as he rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger. "Really, his best bet would be to stay with…" the inventor glanced at his young neighbor apologetically before stating, "the Mouris."

The boy gazed at his longtime neighbor in horror, and inwardly KID winced. The idea _had_ occurred to him to place Conan there, but to have Shinichi live with his childhood friend and crush day in and day out, and to not be able to do or say a single thing about his existence, was a cruelty he had no desire to inflict, much less implement.

"I—I can't stay there!" the shrunken detective stuttered, "Ran will figure it out easily! She knows me too well!"

"The idea had occurred to me as well, and there _is_ a high probability of discovery," Kaitou KID confirmed thoughtfully. "However, placing you, Shinichi-san, with any of the other people within Division One would not work as they do not know you, Agasa-hakase, and there is no feasible situation in which to introduce yourself to them." The phantom thief slanted a look at the youth. "If the Kudous could take you in…"

"We are _not_ bringing my parents into this," Shinichi growled, and the magician hummed at the rote answer. He would have to discuss that particular point with Agasa at a later date when Shinichi was not present.

Despite the detective's insistence, having his parents in on the secret would actually be a fairly good insurance that Shinichi would see his mission fulfilled. Kudou Yuusaku and Kudou Yukiko both wielded heavy clout in their respective social circles and probably had all sorts of connections—of that KID had little doubt. So when—and not if—push came to shove, Shinichi would at least have that support system firmly in place, ready if he fell. And he _would_ fall, multiple times, because that was simply human nature. That did not mean, however, that KID could not balance the scales a bit to cushion the blows. Hmm, kind of made him wish he had one himself, but poor little international gentleman thieves could not be particularly choosy. _At least,_ he amended in his head with a mental grin, _unless they were known as the illustrious Kaitou 1412. Kaitou KID can be as choosy as he likes regarding his heist targets,_ and _he has an amazing support group and devoted following in the form of his beloved Task Force and London-based Tantei-kun! Please note the minor sarcasm regarding the latter part of the statement._

KID chuckled internally at his private narration for a moment before returning to the situation at hand. "So far though, it looks as though the Mouris are your best bet," the thief said aloud.

Shinichi looked at the magician with desperation coloring his eyes. "I can't stay with you?" It was dangerously close to a whine.

Kaitou KID stared, then laughed incredulously. "Shinichi-san… there are so many things _wrong_ with that scenario, I'm not even sure where to start," he exclaimed. "First off, thief," he drawled slowly and very obviously, gesturing to himself, "and detective," he said, poking the shrunken teen in the forehead. The boy gave him a flat glare, though KID breezed on. "Probably _not_ the best housemate combination, I'd imagine. Thieves love to keep secrets, and detectives love nothing more than to dig them up." He raised a skeptical brow at the boy. "Knowing you, it's practically impossible to control your curiosity once it's latched onto something, and I've no doubt you are probably looking at me as your next non-murder case to crack. Am I right?"

The youth averted his eyes, and KID took it as confirmation that his conjecture was spot on. "Then, there's the, 'how did we meet?' question that we would have to work out, along with the, 'why is this kid staying with me?' when we aren't related, and until you shrunk and I formally met you yesterday, I honestly hadn't fully realized you a living, breathing entity aside from occasionally reading your name in the papers, no offense. To integrate you into my civilian life is, frankly, more trouble than its worth because then we'd _both_ have to develop parallel backstories that play off each other. As it is, you're doing a decent enough job just remembering to pretend to be a passable six years old.

"There is more the list I could add, but I will stop here. So in the end, I'm sorry Shinichi-san, but despite your misgivings I too think the best place for you will be at the Mouris. You'll have the connection to the police that you need in order to find your organization, though you'll have to be sneaky about it. How good of a detective is Mouri Kogoro-san anyway?" the thief asked.

Shinichi's distinctly unimpressed expression said it all.

"So… not that good." Kaitou KID exhaled. "Figures."

"Shinichi-kun," Agasa said cautiously, "cases like what you are after only come to detectives who have proven themselves. If you want to find them, you're going to have to turn Mouri-kun into a detective well known enough to take on cases that important."

"And how do I do that?" the child griped, frustration written on his face. "Like Oji-san will listen to me now, when he never did before!"

KID eyed the youth next to him. "You're a resourceful boy," he goaded with a slightly patronizing and challenging tone to his voice, purposely goading him, "you'll figure something out, I'm sure."

The child's eyes lit at the implied challenge, and the phantom thief smirked. _Much better than the frustrated moping from earlier._ "So we've at least figured out how Edogawa Conan-kun came to be, is that not so, gentlemen?" KID asked, switching back to the original reason for visiting the professor. The both of them nodded. "So for the rest of Golden Week, Shinichi-san will stay with me to work on his disguising, and next week he will stay with you, if you don't mind, Agasa-hakase? After that, then we can debut Edogawa Conan-kun to the public, though in the meantime you, Shinichi-san, must not garner too much attention. Actually if you can remain hidden the week you are here, that would work best. In the meantime, during that week you can discuss what types of equipment would work best for a six year old."

Both neighbors agreed with the phantom thief's plan, though Shinichi was a little sour at having to hide for a week. Agasa yawned and checked his watch. "Is it already past midnight? No wonder I'm tired…"

Kaitou KID rose from the couch, as did the shrunken Kudou Shinichi after a beat. "I believe it is time to take our leave, Agasa-hakase," said the thief politely, and the professor once again sent KID an askance glance. The pair of them walked to the door.

"Thank you, Hakase," Shinichi murmured after he had toed on his shoes. He regarded the mustached man seriously. "I'm not sure what I would have done without your help."

The inventor smiled warmly. "Just as long as you stay safe, Shinichi-kun," he replied, throwing a cagey look at the phantom thief standing nonchalantly in his home. "That's all that matters in the end."

The shrunken teenager gave the inventor a watery smile in return, and KID grinned softly at the pair of them. "Well then," he said gently interrupting them as he drew out his cape, "I'll be taking my leave, Agasa-hakase." He punctuated this with a theatrical bow and tip of the hat; his shoes already back on his feet.

"Good night," Shinichi said as the thief held the door open for the boy.

"Good night," Agasa responded, watching the pair stride down his walkway before closing and locking the front door.

The magician sighed heavily and momentarily closed his eyes, leaning on Agasa's gate after closing it. "Let's head back to Beika Station. I'm beat." His last sentence was punctuated with a large yawn, and he was fervently grateful it was a Saturday night—well, technically now a Sunday morning. His eyes slid open and he caught the other boy's gaze. "Sound good?" He stepped past the gate to where the brickwork began before he swapped Kaitou KID's outfit for Kuroba Kaito's street wear in a burst of pink smoke.

The miniaturized detected nodded wearily, though he glanced longingly at the dusky silhouette of Kudou manor and recalled Kaito's words. "Stay the night," Shinichi offered, and belatedly blushed when Kaito blinked owlishly at him. "I—I meant, you said they were not likely to look tonight, there are extra guest rooms here, and it's not like they're being used…" The boy trailed off once he realized he was babbling.

Kaito chuckled, realizing then just exactly how tired he was if his brain could not automatically generate automatic wisecracks regarding the boy's inadvertent innuendo. While the trains were still running at this hour a trip back to Ekoda would take at least forty-five minutes; by cab it would be a minimum of thirty, and a shower and bed sounded absolutely heavenly right now. "If it's not a bother."

They trudged up to and inside the Kudou residence cagily, Kaito following Shinichi up the stairs to the second floor. They were both careful not to turn on any of the lights until they were certain the curtains had been drawn, and they both performed bug checks in the rooms they passed through. Shinichi offered Kaito's pick of guest bedrooms, pointing out the master bedroom that was his parents' and his own. "You should have everything you need if you want to clean up," said the shrunken detective. "I'll find you a set of pajamas for you to sleep in, Kaito-san." He eyed the magician critically before announcing, "I think my old clothes will fit you," and trotted off to his room.

Kaito first shut all of the curtains before he turned on the lights and performed a bug check, wearily stripping himself of his shirt, folding it, and placing it on the dresser. He caught a glimpse of himself in the full body mirror near the bathroom entrance. A stark outline of the spiny necklace pendant permanently branded the skin over his heart, where the Blue Birthday had practically embedded itself in his flesh. The bullet Snake had shot at him had impacted the gem, resulting in a Blue Birthday-shaped laceration and one hell of a bruise that decorated almost the entirety of the upper left side of his chest and several cracked ribs. He had worn Kevlar that evening; it was lucky he had, since otherwise the pendant would have literally gone straight through his chest. From the very beginning, after learning from Jii that his father's death had actually been murder, he had always worn a bulletproof vest beneath the KID costume despite the extra weight and bulkiness that it presented. And now, a little over two months later, his ribs were almost completely knit and the skin over his chest back to normal in color.

"What kind of wound… is that?"

Kaito turned, watching Shinichi's eyes trace the spider-like imprint on his chest. He ran a hand over the jewel-wound self-consciously. He sighed with uncharacteristic melancholia. "A bullet impact. Kaitou KID does, after all, have enemies of his own."

"But… bullets don't make wounds like that…" Even now, Shinichi seemed to struggle with the concept of anyone actively shooting at the staunchly nonviolent KID. Shinichi's gaze turned inward in thought, crossing one arm over his chest to prop up his elbow while his free hand supported his chin. The pajama set he had brought Kaito was draped, forgotten, on the arm across his chest as he contemplated this latest piece of the Kaitou KID puzzle.

"Careful, Shinichi-san," Kaito advised, easing the sleepwear from the child's arms. "I promised to teach you how to conceal yourself and I will, make no mistake about that. And if you do insist on asking, you know I will answer you honestly. But I think there is no need for you to poke your nose into that, not unless you want your status upgraded from accessory to possible accomplice."

"Like I'm not already breaking the law by having you fabricate an entirely new persona for me," Shinichi retorted.

The thief smirked. "On that front, I'm the culprit just as much as you are. But you have never involved yourself in KID's affairs aside from the clock tower heist, and even then it was to capture me. So you are, as far as I'm concerned, clean on that end."

"Kaito-san…" Shinichi protested softly, then blinked as he watched the magician.

Kaito had set the pajamas on the bathroom counter and produced a clean set of undergarments for himself with another flick of his wrist. "Thank the gods I always carry around a spare," he muttered under his breath, placing the underwear on the clean pile of clothes.

The child seemed to shake himself, making a face at whatever thoughts were drifting through his head. "Towels are in the linen closet to your right, toiletries in the cabinet behind you," the boy said dropping the previous topic for now and backing towards the bedroom entrance. The look in his eyes, however, told Kaito they were far from finished with the discussion. "Night, Kaito-san."

Kaito poked his head out of the bathroom and shot the youth a grin. "Night, Shinichi-san," he responded and watched the door shut behind the shrunken teenager. Heaving a deep sigh, he stripped completely and bathed, soaking in the warmth of the hot water. He tumbled into the bed, mind tossing out ideas for Conan's newly-minted personality. They grew stranger and stranger as his eyelids grew heavier until finally they closed completely.

* * *

The next day found Kaito tangled in the sheets while simultaneously trying to suffocate his pillow via cuddling. The alarm on his phone chimed at three minutes past eight—he was arbitrary like that. Hand groping the surface of the nightstand for the device, he pressed the button on the side to deactivate the noise before stretching with a wide yawn. Shuffling to the bathroom, he cleaned himself up for the day, donning yesterday's set of shirt and jeans. He wandered downstairs, nose catching a whiff of coffee and followed it to the kitchen, where Shinichi drowsily sat at the breakfast table with a mug and Friday's newspaper spread out before him, dressed in another set of his primary school uniform.

"Morning," said the boy monotonously without glancing up from the paper, and Kaito responded in kind as he blinked at the boy's distinctly un-childlike behavior, reminded of when he had mentioned Shinichi's caffeine addiction yesterday. He decided, just for today, that discretion was the better part of valor and let the detective's habit slide.

"Anything to eat around here?" asked the magician, making a beeline for the refrigerator and staring inside it. Upon finding nothing Kaito then turned his attention to the pantry, shutting it with a scowl. "What _exactly_ do you eat when you're home?" he snapped, "Aside from bags upon bags of ground coffee beans, there is absolutely _nothing_ in either the pantry or the refrigerator!"

"Bento from the convenience store," the child replied grouchily, still not completely awake. He yelped in surprise as Kaito grabbed a wrist and hauled him out of the chair, headed for the front door while the boy vocally and physically protested the manhandling.

"We're going out to eat," Kaito declared curtly, "because I want breakfast, and if you want a good disguise I'll need to train a few different habits into you." They exited the home and ended up at a small English-style café down the road, where Kaito ordered a breakfast consisting of soft scrambled eggs, sausage links, toast, and tea. Shinichi, once again masquerading as Kaito's younger brother, was forbidden from ordering anything with coffee as an ingredient and wound up with the same as Kaito minus the sausage with his eggs over easy. A plate holding two raspberry scones sat between them.

"I hate you." Conan sulked behind his plate, glaring at his "older brother" as he nibbled on a triangle of buttered toast.

Kaito lazily eyed him as he set down his teacup. "I'm sure you do," the thief responded nonchalantly as he cut his sausage into manageable bites. He forked a piece into his mouth, watching as the miniaturized detective took a sip of tea. The boy was still clearly tired, the tea weak enough that it did not give him the caffeine jolt he desired. Kaito made a mental note to have aspirin on hand for his withdrawal headaches, as well as to inform Agasa that the youth was to assuredly _not_ drink coffee in the mornings—though he had a feeling that the older man would be rather lenient with Conan in this regard. The thief inwardly sighed and decided to switch to a more serious topic of conversation.

"You can have as much tea as you like, since that is something that some younger children do drink on occasion," he said, watching the shrunken detective glare at his beverage, simply _because_ he could see the bottom of his tealeaf-littered cup through the green-hued liquid. Regarding your disguise," he said, and Conan perked up, listening intently. "I think the only thing left to do appearance-wise is to dye your hair."

The shrunken detective blinked. "My—my hair?"

The magician hummed. "Your hair," he confirmed. "You still look too much like yourself. So, I'm going to lighten it up several shades. Nothing drastic," he said, knowing that the boy had images of himself going platinum blond in his head, "but just enough that will detract from your current image as a mini-Kudou Shinichi." Kaito grinned. "I don't think you realize what a few shades' difference can do. However, this is something that's going to need maintenance, so regular touchups will be required. I can show you how to do that, but you're going to have to remember to do it yourself, and not only that, but be sure that whoever it is you stay with won't find out." The thief paused before adding, "Or we can arrange it so that I can do that for you every month or so." By now the pair of them had finished off their plates and were working their way through the scones. "For the initial coloring, I could either do it for you, or we could go to a hair salon and have it done professionally. I do a pretty decent job myself, but I'd prefer the latter so that I know it will be done well."

"People won't think it's strange that a six year old wants a dye job?" Conan asked skeptically. "And is coloring my hair really necessary?"

Kaito shrugged. "It might be a little odd, but it's not unheard of," he replied, "and as it stands you still look just like a miniaturized version of yourself, even with the glasses." A crafty grin curved the magician's lips. "I could disguise as the overindulgent mother…" he wheedled.

Conan shuddered. "Oh gods, no…"

The thief laughed at the boy's reaction. "Oh come on now, you wouldn't even know I was a guy!"

The miniaturized detective blinked in horror. "You can _do_ that?"

"Fine, fine, ruin my fun," Kaito sniffed. The magician knew that Conan had never been to a KID heist, and that he would not be familiar with just how completely Kaito could disguise himself. The older boy made a mental note to _really_ surprise the youth if their paths ever crossed as detective and phantom thief.

"I'll play the cool older cousin this time. Let's head out; I know of an excellent salon." The duo first returned to the Kudou residence to clean up any evidence of their presence before they made their way to a swanky hair studio halfway between Harajuku and Shibuya Stations. Kaito greeted the staff with smiles and jokes and introduced Conan as his cousin from America. The stylists cooed over the six year old's sheer cuteness and caused Conan to blush profusely, much to the phantom thief's amusement. Kaito explained that Conan wanted his hair dyed a few shades lighter from his current espresso color to a medium chocolate. The magician pointed out the color in a style magazine, showing the boy before Conan agreed and was swept off to the back sinks for a shampoo treatment. The magician himself followed shortly afterwards, sitting at the adjacent sink for his own shampooing, to be followed by his trimonthly trim.

They exited the hair salon a while later, Conan pleased that he still somewhat recognized himself in the mirror and Kaito pleased with how the coloring turned out. But then considering that the stylists in the salon created some pretty crazy styles to follow the most up-to-date fads including the current but strange ganguro trend, it was expected they would do an excellent job. The magician kept the boy's glasses in a pocket as the accessory would have interfered with the hair job, and had yet to give them back. Conan was simply relieved not to have that additional weight on the bridge of his nose for a little while.

They were walking back towards Harajuku Station when a scream rent the air. Conan immediately snapped his head towards the sound before taking off in the direction of the commotion. Kaito swore and tore after the boy, dodging startled pedestrians. He chased Conan to a bakery, catching a glimpse of the child swerving towards the entrance. _Chibi-kun can run,_ the thief noted, slightly winded as he swiftly followed into the bakery. He froze just outside the doorstep, nearly tripping on the boy himself when he found the shrunken detective taking in the crime scene—a man sprawled on the floor, eyes staring sightlessly ahead, a red bean past in one hand and wrinkled folds of his shirt over his heart clutched in the other. A woman—the owner, it looked like—was kneeling next to the body, weeping, with four other onlookers inside the store.

"Somebody call an ambulance!" Conan shouted at the bystanders on the street. When no one moved to do so, still too confused over the whys and the whats and the whos, the child spun and caught sight of the thief beside him. Tugging on his pants, he barked, "Hurry and call an ambulance!"

And yet Kaito refused to budge, for he had caught the culprit's fleeting expression of triumph and satisfaction that told him that this was not a simple case of a heart attack, but a premeditated murder. And because of that, the thief's first thoughts that passed through his mind most prominently were: _If the police see me, they're going to assume that I'm Kudou Shinichi! And how do I explain Edogawa Conan's existence before he's "officially" moved to Japan?_

"Kaito-san!" The phantom thief snapped out of his reverie, flipping his phone open and dialing 119 for an ambulance, tersely giving the operator his location before hanging up. That done, the magician snagged the shrunken detective, the boy squawking once in surprise as he was bodily dragged back out onto the sidewalk proper. "What?" he hissed, eyes constantly straying back to the crime scene.

"I can't be seen here," Kaito whispered back urgently.

 _That_ caught the youth's attention. "Wha—why not?"

 _Oh, for crying out loud!_ The gentleman thief clenched his jaw in frustration at Shinichi's tunnel vision, his cover all but forgotten. The person who stood before him was not Edogawa Conan, inquisitive six-year-old child genius from America. No, the person before him was fully Kudou Shinichi, the sixteen-year-old Great Detective of the East, trapped in the body of a six-year-old child, and who was currently being ten kinds of _idiot_. Kaito vowed to speak to Shinichi about his tunnel vision issue soon. But at the same time, this opportunity presented the thief a rare front row seat to the detective's deductive show, though the problem of his appearance would greatly hinder him. Kaito wondered how exactly he would work around this issue. "The police will have to be called in to investigate this murder, and the police _cannot_ see me here. They will mistake me for you."

"How do you know this was murder?" he demanded, eyes like sharp chips of ice, and Kaito could read the astonishment and frustration that the thief had solved the case before the detective.

Kaito could not resist a small dig at Shinichi's pride as the opportunity presented itself, even as he inwardly grieved for the loss of a life. Despite having been in multiple crises situations, the magician had always been able to project a sense of calm amusement in spite of his inner turmoil—Poker Face at its finest—a trait he utilized now. Besides, how often did a phantom thief have the chance to one up a detective at his own game? "I know who did it, but I don't know how. You like mysteries, Tantei-kun," he purred, "so go solve it."

Shinichi curled his hands into fists. " _You…_ are _infuriating_!" he snarled. "Fine. Don't tell me then. And go disguise since you don't want to be seen!" the boy snapped irritably as he turned to run back to the scene.

The thief snagged his arm, reeling him back, and Shinichi audibly growled. " _You_ cannot be seen either!" Kaito rebuked heatedly. "Edogawa Conan, as of yet, does not officially exist!"

"So introduce me early!" Shinichi ground out, and the gentleman thief could see the detective clenching his jaw in frustration.

"Absolutely not," the thief countered immediately. "It'll be too coincidental if we do that now—too easy to make the connection between you and Kudou Shinichi, and I want you to have a good, solid alibi." The detective swore vehemently, but subsided, deferring to the magician's more intimate knowledge of the workings of the criminal underworld and the currently methodical—if aggravating—logic that he employed. Kaito thought deeply and quickly, incorporating what he knew of Shinichi's personality with the situation they were in. The detective resolutely would not step away from a murder. It would be, short of knocking him out, physically impossible to remove him, although the magician had sheer size and strength on his side in this case. But he also had no desire to put up with a sulking, angry, and guilty Conan for the rest of the week. So what to do? Kuroba Kaito could not be seen; otherwise he was liable to be mistaken for the renowned high school detective. Kaito was a natural-born performer. It was in his very blood. So… why not make a performance out of this, incorporating Shinichi's deductive show into it?

"Shinichi-san," the magician murmured, brain still working out the logistics but sure the ruse could—no, would—work. "Do you think you can pretend to be a doll?"

The shrunken detective blinked in surprise at the non sequitur, a perplexed frown marring his previously irate expression. "A—a doll?"

"Yup," Kaito said, eyes glittering with anticipatory excitement. "Since you cannot be seen before the two weeks are up and I cannot be mistaken for Kudou Shinichi, what if I dressed up as a street performer, magician, and ventriloquist with you as my puppet?" The boy gaped. The magician sighed. "Come on, we don't have all day, and this is the best plan I can think of on the fly that'll let you solve the case _without_ us being discovered."

"All right, fine," Shinichi conceded hastily, glancing back at the body, "but just hurry it up."

"Wait by the front door of the bakery and try to be unobtrusive. I need to put makeup on you too." Kaito normally carried just a few disguise items around at any given point in time. Definitely not enough for an entire makeover, but he slipped into the next door electronics store's restroom to apply a few small pieces of silicone to change the shape of his jaw, nose, and cheeks and blending the pieces into his face with concealer. He also used another shade to contour other parts of his face, blending the lines out with his fingertips. A brow pencil thickened and shaped his eyebrows into a gentler slant and gave him a hint of stubble. A comb and water from the sink somewhat tamed his normally unruly hair into a more conservative comb over, and he yanked off his shirt to reveal a different tee, folding his shed top and tucking it into the front of his jeans under his current shirt to give himself a slight beer gut. A man in his mid-twenties with a more angular face stared back at him in the mirror, and Kaito nodded. This disguise would have to do. Not up to his usual, but he was kind of in a pinch at the moment. He exited the electronics store, quickly locating the miniaturized teenager at the front of the bakery. The shrunken teen had been watching the bakery interior like a hawk.

Grasping Shinichi's hand he hissed, "It's me," in his normal voice.

Shinichi blinked and stared before muttering, "Kaito-san?" Kaito was sure the boy could still recognize him, since he had not used a full mask and parts of his facial features—most prominently his eyes—remained the same.

"It's me," he agreed, pulling the resisting child into the alcove in front of the electronics store before squatting so that they were eyelevel. "Now let's fix you up and get this show on the road." he said as he pulled out the concealer, contour, and brow pencil and began drawing lines all over the child's face. "Just make sure you your movements are sort of jerky yet liable to go slack at any given moment, and I think we're good. If you need to tell me something, whisper, but be discrete, or write it on my palm when we're sitting down somewhere. I'll insert myself into the investigation as Kobara Touki, and once I do so and introduce you, you're free to move, and I'll pretend I'm manipulating you from afar. Just keep up the act, got it? This would be a good chance to practice being a six year old. In the meantime…" he said as he finished blending the makeup on the boy's face. "… are you okay with me sticking my hand up the back of your shirt?"

The child gave the magician a look of utter bafflement mingled with a hint of embarrassment, but before he could say a word Kaito had scooped him up and carried him casually yet securely into the bakery. The shrunken detective was held in such a way that he faced forwards, his back leaning against the thief's shoulder and his legs dangling as Kaito's arms created a bench for him to rest upon. Shinichi remembered to allow his head to fall to the side and bob with every moment the magician as he made himself go fairly limp.

"What sort of goodies should I—kami-sama!" Kobara Touki, a local magician, street performer, and ventriloquist from Kamiyama-chou yelped upon registering the body sprawled on the floor. Touki's voice was slightly deeper than Kaito's, and the ventriloquist felt his "puppet" twitch in surprise. "Relax," Kaito whispered urgently, barely moving his lips, "and play dead for the moment. I'll make sure you can see everything." The marionette in his arms was a surprisingly lifelike young boy, with thoroughly ruffled hair and wide blue eyes gazing sightlessly ahead as it leaned against Touki's torso, its head pressed against the puppeteer's cheek. He deposited the puppet on a chair, propping him so that the doll easily overlooked the store before hurrying to the man. "What happened?" he demanded, taking in the sight of the petrified people standing around and the weeping woman as he crouched down next to the body and tried to find a pulse in his neck, not wanting to move his hands from where they rested even as he leaned in to listen for any sounds of breathing—there was none. However, he was still very warm—alive warm, and Kaito made his decision. Touki threw the man's hand off his chest, tilted his head back, pinched his nose, and began administering cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

"He—he took a bite of the anpan before he clutched his chest and fell over," one of the women answered after a pause, voice quivering.

 _Well fuck me sideways and string me by the nuts,_ Kaito mentally swore as he blew a second breath into the man's mouth. _He's been poisoned, and I'm a dead man walking._ "Has anyone called emergency services?" he grunted as he pressed sharply down on the man's sternum for the thirty chest compressions.

"We called an ambulance several minutes ago," one of the men said. His hands were dusted with what appeared to be flour up to his elbows, the ingredient coating the front of his apron as well.

"Call the police as well," he said after the second round of breaths. "If you say he took a bite of the anpan and collapsed, then there is a good chance he might have been poisoned." The siren from the ambulance was definitely louder; the vehicle would arrive in less than a minute based on the volume.

Touki was still at it when the ambulance arrived, the two medics hurrying in with a stretcher in tow. They made a beeline for the body, taking over from the exhausted magician and strapping an oxygen mask on his face. "You can't move him just yet," he huffed, wiping his brow as the medics made to argue with him. "He's recently died, potentially by oral poisoning. Because he might have been poisoned, there is a distinct possibility that he was murdered, and so he must be left as is for the police to investigate. They have already been called and are on their way." Touki grimaced. "I hope I'm not going to keel over trying to save him."

He acutely felt Shinichi's eyes on him, scorching the back of his neck, _demanding_ that he be allowed to act. Touki returned, sweating and tired, to where he had set the prone doll on the chair, situating the lifelike marionette on his lap and sliding a hand under the shirt. Shinichi stiffened at the feel of Kaito's damp hand splayed across his bare shoulder blades, but a wiggle of the fingertips into his back indicated that he could act as freely as his situation would allow, and the boy relaxed marginally. The magician's other hand rested, palm up, on the child's own lap, ready for any messages not meant for public consumption. One of the women had called the police, and announced that they would arrive in roughly five minutes' time.

 _I need to see the body up close for clues,_ Shinichi wrote into Kaito's hand.

The magician responded by combing his puppet's hair with his free hand, leaning in and murmuring, "Just ask aloud as a doll."

"Touki-san, why is there a person on the floor?" asked the puppet, jerkily springing to life as it pointed at the prone man and catching the attention of the rest of the shop occupants. The wail of police sirens could be heard in the distance.

The street performer blinked. "Oh, Masa-chan, so you've woken up, have you?"

The marionette grinned widely at the puppeteer before returning his gaze onto the body. "Do you mind if I look?" asked the puppet, glancing at Touki.

The street performer sighed. "Give me a moment, Masa-chan," Touki exhaled, and fiddled with something invisible over his puppet's head with his free hand. "There." The hand on the doll's back slid out from its clothing, and Masanori was gently scooted off the puppet master's lap. "Off you go." Shinichi wandered over towards the body being worked on by the medics, forgetting entirely to keep his movements slightly stilted, and Kaito inwardly rolled his eyes.

Touki observed the cluster of suspects: there was the weeping woman in an apron—presumably the bakery proprietress, maybe owner; a man also wearing and apron with white powder dusting his hands to his elbows and confusion writ on his face—likely proprietress' husband if the ring on his finger was any indication; and three other adults: one man and two women who also appeared rather distraught—likely customers.

"Is that—a puppet?" one of the female customers asked, staring at the boy in wonder through teary eyes. "He's so realistic."

The magician smiled proudly, though inwardly he was wondering why in the name of the gods and goddesses Shinichi had lifted the oxygen mask and was _wafting a scent from the man's mouth_ , much to the medics' consternation. "Hey boy, don't mess with the equipment," one of them snapped as they took turns performing chest compressions.

Smoothly Touki answered, "Indeed. One of my best," as the doll apologized in the background. _Though at this rate he's going to blow our fucking cover,_ Kaito snarled. He stood and bowed shallowly. "Kobara Touki, local ventriloquist, amongst other things. That there is Masanori-kun, who likes to play detective when he gets the chance. He's quite good at it, if I may say so myself." The detective puppet studied the man from various angles, though he was careful not to touch the body unless it was with a handkerchief.

"So you're a detective, Kobara-san?" asked the other woman customer.

Touki chuckled and heard a stifled snort of amusement from his wandering marionette. "Me? Oh heavens, no. Don't have the brains for it, though Masa-chan here seems to be rather capable, ne Masanori-kun?"

The puppet in question tilted its head towards him at first in question, then a devious smile split its face as it agreed. "Un! Touki-san is oftentimes not that bright."

Said street performer scowled at his marionette. "Careful, Masa-chan, or I might just put you back to _sleep_ ," he warned, emphasizing the last word subtly. Shinichi, however, read the message loud and clear and continued his inspection of the crime scene without a rejoinder to Kaito's warning. _I'm already vastly displeased with the situation; don't provoke me if you wish to aid in the investigation._

"How are you moving him?" the flour-covered man asked in amazement, eyes searching for strings or something to maneuver Masanori.

Touki grinned roguishly, arms crossed easily over his chest. "There are things that shall remain a mystery," he said with a wink. "I am, after all, also a magician."

The first police vehicle arrived not a minute later, and from the car stepped Inspector Megure Juuzou, who quickly took in the crime scene. Hot on his tail from other patrol vehicles came Sergeant Takagi Wataru along with a handful of other policemen. The additional officers had cordoned off the area, and a forensics team was working on uncovering additional clues as other policemen separated onlookers from potential suspects. The medics were asked to wait off to the side—the police would still require the gurney to take out the body. Tagaki followed Megure like a shadow as the inspector studied the body, with the junior detective writing down all the observations made in his notebook. "The body's still warm, so he died not that long ago," the inspector muttered to himself, his subordinate dutifully writing the comment down.

At length the inspector stood and turned to the people in the bakery. "I am Megure Juuzou-keibu from Division One Homicide Unit of the TMPD. I was told that the victim was killed by ingesting poison. His name is Kaneda Hayate, aged thirty eight, telecommunications manager. May I ask who you are? Name, age, occupation, and relationship with the victim please." He gestured to one of the women.

"Kaneda Nanami, his wife," she replied a touch defensively. She was dressed well for a morning outing in a flowing blue sundress, her long, wavy brown hair tied back with a matching ribbon, and designer purse and heels hanging from her shoulder and clad on her feet, respectively. She had seemed to pull herself together in the time it took for the ambulance and police to arrive. "Thirty-six years old, pharmacist," she answered curtly.

The other woman, also well dressed with her black hair pulled up in a stylish chignon, spoke up. "Sakamoto Aina, thirty-seven years old, I was Kaneda-san's coworker in the marketing department." She nervously shuffled in patent black stiletto heels, straightening her cream blouse and smoothing her red skirt.

The last customer, a tall man with a sturdy build and wearing clothing more casual than either woman said, "Hasegawa Nobuyuki, forty-one years old, telecommunications analyst in the same department as Kaneda-san." His dark brown hair was mussed from running his hand through it. Otherwise his hands stayed tucked in his khaki pant pockets.

The woman who wore an apron and had been weeping when Touki found them spoke up next. "Inoue Koharu, twenty-nine years old, bakery proprietress. I knew Kaneda-san because he stopped by every morning to buy a snack for his office." She fiddled with the long sleeves of her thin, periwinkle sweater, agitatedly tucking her side swept fringe behind her ear repeatedly.

"Inoue Saburou," the last man clad in an apron and dusted in flour said. He was a heavily built man with strong, muscular arms, thinning hair, and laugh lines forming around his eyes and mouth. "Thirty-one years old, baker, and Koharu's husband. I occasionally greet Kaneda-san, but I mostly work in the kitchen."

Finally the policemen's eyes turned on to Touki, who had at this point retrieved Masanori. "Kobara Touki," he said from his seat with the puppet on his lap, though since he had done… whatever he needed, there was no need to physically operate the doll. "Twenty-four years of age, street performer, ventriloquist, and magician, and of no relation to Kaneda-san whatsoever. I had just finished up working in Yoyogi Park for the morning and wanted a snack, so I came in here just after this man had fallen over. I was the one who confirmed that Kaneda-san was dead and requested that the police were called on the suspicion that he might have been poisoned. And my little friend here is Masanori-kun. He's a detective."

"Hi, I'm Masanori, and I'm a detective!" the marionette chirped, grinning brightly. "Hello!"

* * *

Author's Note: And we have a murder scene! Egads, that was difficult! It took me weeks to think up a fairly realistic murder scenario with a reasonable solution, though I'm really not sure where the idea to turn Shinichi into a puppet came from… it honestly was like a "what the fuck, did my brain seriously conjure that up?" moment for me too. "Masanori" means "Model of Justice", which I thought was highly appropriate. But yes, I realized that there had to be a murder scene in which Kaito could watch Shinichi work up close and personal and get a better grasp of Shinichi's thinking process. Besides, it wouldn't make sense to go a whole week without our miniaturized detective stumbling over a dead body, now would it? I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 27.05.2015


	5. IV: Sunday, May 1

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

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Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

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IV: Sunday, May 1

* * *

Kobara Touki was off by himself as a witness because he had been outside the shop before the murder took place but inside to observe the situation _in media res_ , and so he sat on a chair with Masanori seated on his lap. He had been questioned on how he had confirmed Kaneda was dead. The street performer's rationale for going for the jugular—literally—was due to the fact that the man had taken a single bite from the sweet bread roll before he had died based on his coworkers' testimony, and had made the decision the leave the body in the state it had collapsed as evidence for the police. But considering how recently the man had died, he had tried to resuscitate the man.

 _Maybe I've been hanging too long around Hakuba,_ Kaito thought with a grimace in the recesses of his mind, buried under the persona of Kobara Touki, _bastard's rubbed off on me, and he hasn't even been here all that long!_ His attention was pulled outward by a small finger tracing hiragana, kanji, and Romaji into his palm.

The boy posing as a marionette was currently reclined easily against the magician, even though he was still "active." _Thank you for keeping the crime scene as intact as possible,_ the child fingered into his hand. _It'll make the investigation go that much smoother. You scared me shitless when you began CPR after being told he might have been poisoned orally._

Kaito mentally laughed somewhat hysterically, Poker Face firmly in place to bury the emotional chaos until he could sort himself out later. Shifting the doll, Kaito murmured quietly into Shinichi's ear, "Attention to detail is but one of the many characteristics that define both great detectives and great thieves, ne Meitantei?" The two watched as one of the forensic analysts dusted the display cases showcasing the various baked goods for fingerprints, while another followed closely behind, snapping pictures of the fingerprints revealed. Another pair of forensic analysts snapped photos of the body _in situ_ before the emergency medics were finally allowed to retrieve the corpse. The bitten bun filled with red bean paste had been whisked away to the forensics lab to test for traces of poison. "So what do you think?" asked Kaito, eyes focused on the investigation team.

Shinichi angled himself so that he could whisper loud enough so that only the thief would hear with his face partially blocked from view, though he was still able to keep an eye on the proceedings. "I don't think Kaneda-san was poisoned despite the obvious evidence of his having taken a single bite of the anpan. If he had been poisoned, he would be clutching his throat, I'd imagine, and you would also be dead. But instead, he was grabbing his shirt right over his heart. I would theorize that he suffered a heart attack, and coincidentally bit the anpan right when the attack happened."

"A sound theory," Kaito agreed neutrally, his voice equally quiet and his lips barely moving as he spoke.

"I hear a 'but' somewhere…" and the magician could hear the glare in the detective's voice.

The phantom thief smirked. "Who knows?" he whispered, his tone casual and chipper and specifically designed to irk the detective like the dickens. _The biggest question is: what was the method of murder used, if there is not a physical weapon involved?_

Shinichi scowled blackly at the teen masquerading as an older variant of himself. "Have I mentioned I hate you?" When his glared did nothing but cause Kaito to snicker, the youth added flatly, "You _do_ realize I could have you arrested for the obstruction of justice, don't you?"

Now the gentleman thief rolled his eyes. "You really think _that_ particular charge is going to move me when I already have grand larceny, forgery, impersonation and cheating, offenses against the administration of public justice, firearms and offensive weapons, and harmful or dangerous drugs charges already listed against me?" His expression blackened considerably and his eyes narrowed just the slightest at the child puppet. "If this is an attempt at blackmail against my civilian persona…"

"Fear not, Kaitou-san, I've given you my word, haven't I?" the shrunken detective murmured with a somewhat resigned tone, sagging against him. There was a somewhat tense silence between them before Shinichi spoke again, changing the topic. "What bothers me is that the whole thing is too coincidental, with Kaneda-san taking a bite of the anpan just as he happens to have a heart attack. Then there's the fact that he had a heart attack. Most heart attack victims still have a pulse minutes after the attack because the heart doesn't actually stop beating during or after the attack—but you said there was no pulse not even a minute after he collapsed, which implies sudden cardiac arrest as the cause of death instead." The miniaturized detective frowned in thought. "It's possible he had preexisting health issues regarding his heart that could have led to cardiac failure, which means he if he did he probably was taking at least some sort of daily medication. Maybe the drugs interacted negatively?"

Both sets of eyes regarded the suspects pensively. "Perhaps, Meitantei-san, perhaps."

In the meantime, Inspector Megure had begun questioning the suspects. "The time is now ten forty-two. The victim's estimated time of death is sometime between ten fifteen to ten thirty-seven, the time we received the phone call." He turned a hard gaze on the five people standing before him. "Considering the victim died of poisoning, it is highly likely that the substance was found in the anpan."

Both owners of the bakery gasped. "You mean to tell me you think one of us poisoned Kaneda-san?" Inoue Saburou shouted indignantly, floured hands balling into fists.

"Why would we poison one of our most regular customers?" Inoue Koharu breathed, tears once again welling up in her eyes.

Megure frowned sympathetically, but plowed onwards. "We have to consider everyone here a suspect until the evidence points to the culprit. Now then, what were you doing from ten-fifteen up until the victim died?"

"You—you can't possibly believe that I'm a suspect!" Sakamoto Aina cried, outraged. She pointed a manicured red-tipped finger at the backpedaling inspector. "What have I possibly done other than be here as his friend and coworker to warrant this kind of treatment?"

"Now now," the inspector said in a placating manner. "We just want to confirm your whereabouts so that you can be taken off the suspect list."

"So then why isn't _he_ standing here as a suspect?" Sakamoto hissed, pointing at Touki and Masanori, who both blinked at her accusation.

"Um…" Takagi said, inserting himself into the conversation, "Kobara-san arrived in the bakery _after_ the victim had collapsed and presumably died. He's a percipient witness of the aftermath."

Sakamoto huffed, but did not deign to reply. The inspector coughed to clear his throat, and repeated his question. Kaneda Nanami answered first after a moment of silence.

"Anata and I had been out for brunch with Hasagawa-san and Sakamoto-san. We met around nine-thirty at a café not far from here. Afterwards, Anata decided he wanted a little something for later, so we came here," she said.

Megure eye the other two customers. "Is this true?"

"Un," Sakamoto Aina agreed, still peeved by the accusation that she was a potential murderer.

"The café we ate at is called 'Bread Winners'. It is two blocks south and a block east from here," Hasegawa Nobuyuki offered.

The inspector nodded, accepting their alibis and turned to the two store proprietors.

"I was here, helping customers. Both Saburou and I have been in the bakery since four this morning; although when we opened at six I stayed in the front to deal with customers while Saburou stayed in the kitchen baking more pastries and breads." The husband and wife pair glanced at each other, wordlessly confirming her story.

Both Touki and Masanori found it odd that the couple did not seek physical comfort from each other in such a high stress environment. Instead, the pair stood close to each other, but still maintained a comfortable distance between them. _They're fighting?_ Touki wondered. _There's still another piece of the puzzle we're missing, I feel._ The street performer's eyes flicked to observe his puppet, who observed the proceedings with an intensity that was not normal for _anyone_ his age. But as he knew that Shinichi would forget the moment after he was reminded to act like a puppet child, the magician let him be for the moment. He would be thoroughly rebuked later.

"I've been here since four, like Koharu said," added Inoue Saburou. "I've been in the kitchen baking. I usually finish the last batch of rolls around eleven, so I still had several trays' worth to finish."

The two policemen's eyes narrowed on the baker. "So there is a high possibility that you could have put the poison in the anpan which the victim then bought and ate," extrapolated Megure.

The baker's eyes widened in fear. "No, I would never! And even if I did, how was I to know that Kaneda-san would eat it?"

Takagi then asked, "Did the victim buy the same item every day?"

"Yes," answered the baker's wife, her face crumbling. "He bought anpan each time he visited."

"Then you also could have poisoned the anpan, knowing the victim's habits," Megure accused.

"I couldn't do that," she gasped. "Again, _why_ would I want to kill one of my most frequent customers?"

At that moment Takagi's mobile rang, and the sergeant picked it up. "This is Takagi." There was a pause as he listened to person on the other end of the line. " _Nothing?!_ " he yelped, startled, and he in turn startled everyone else around him. "Are you sure?" A befuddled expression marred his face. "And that's the determination then?" There was more tense silence. "Okay, understood," he said and hung up. He turned to his superior with worried eyes. "Keibu, forensics said there were no traces of poison found in the anpan."

Everyone in the room gaped, though both Touki and Masanori narrowed their eyes in suspicion. "Absolutely nothing?!" stuttered Megure.

The sergeant shook his head. "The anpan was clean." At his pronouncement, both the baker and his wife sagged in relief, though the three customers shuffled anxiously.

"Hmm," the inspector rumbled, rubbing his chin in thought. "Has there been another option for the victim's cause of death?"

"The coroner has determined that the victim died of sudden cardiac arrest, not a heart attack. Right now they are running tests to determine if there are traces of anything in the victim's blood," Takagi said, repeating what he was told on the phone. The two officers went silent as they reviewed the new information and assimilated it with what they already knew, baffled by the forensics results from the sweet bread roll.

Touki watched with curiosity as Masanori slid off his lap, making its way towards one of the tables where all of the late Kaneda's personal effects had been itemized and labeled in plastic bags. The doll stared at a pillbox containing several pills before piping up, "A-re-re? Kaneda-san, did your husband take pills daily?"

The new widow glanced at the marionette. "Yes," she answered, "Anata took several pills daily. He took an atorvastatin for high cholesterol, maprotiline for depression, and several different vitamins and supplements."

Megure and Takagi, along with several other officers, stared at Masanori. "Kobara-san," Megure said, eying the child, "that boy is really a puppet?"

Touki smiled as he stood, walking over to stand next to the boy and squeezing a shoulder. "Yup, one of my best puppets too! Took me a while but I figured out how to manipulate it from afar." He held up his right hand, fingers extended and palm down. "See, if I wanted to ' _deactivate'_ Masa-chan so to speak, I just have to do this, and—" he made a slashing motion with his left hand parallel the ground beneath his right hand and clicked his tongue, and the puppet crumpled into a pile of limbs on the floor, "—and voilà! No more Masa-chan." He squatted and picked up his marionette, the lifelike child staring blankly ahead. "So if I wanted to ' _restart'_ him—" the street performer sat the boy on an empty tabletop, the doll leaning floppily against his chest and hovered his right hand above the doll's head with fingers extended and palm down once more. He made a few complicated gestures with his left under his right palm and clicked his tongue again.

"Rude, Touki-san!" scolded Masanori, the puppet straightening itself from leaning on the ventriloquist's chest. "You're a big meanie!"

Touki rolled his eyes. "That's how I do it to allow Masa-chan his 'freedom.' Though why I even bother, sometimes I'm not quite sure," he grumbled as he returned the puppet's glower. "He does seem to have a personality all his own, doesn't he?"

"He's… remarkably realistic…" Takagi offered, staring unabashedly.

The magician grinned with pride as he set Masanori on the floor. "That's precisely the point. I did just about everything I could to make my Masa-chan look like a living, breathing six-year-old boy with a head for sleuthing."

"And when 'Masa-chan' speaks, that's really you talking?" asked one of the forensics analysts.

"Of course it is. I also don't just throw around little boy's voices," replied a sultry female voice that seemed to come from an empty corner. Everyone except for Touki—even Masanori—spun as they searched for the owner of the voice before they stared at the ventriloquist, who simply shrugged. "It's something I've learned to do," he said, still speaking with the woman's voice. It certainly made for a jarring, disjointed combination of sight and sound.

Megure shook himself out of his shock and cleared his throat. "At any rate, we'll need to see the results of the blood work first before we draw any conclusions. In the meantime, did any of you dislike the victim for any reason?"

The five glanced at each other uncertainly. Once again Kaneda Nanami broke the uncomfortable silence. "I believe we all did, and I have my suspicions about him," she said, gesturing to Inoue Saburou.

"I had no reason to want Kaneda-san dead!" Sakamoto Aina shouted.

Kaneda smiled viciously. "So the fact that Anata had blackmail material regarding your 'affair'—if you can even call it that—with your rival company's CFO and that you had paid Anata something to the tune of over five million yen to keep quiet had nothing to do with it?"

Sakamoto flushed red in anger and embarrassment, but did not deny Kaneda's accusations. The pharmacist continued. "Hasagawa-san owed Anata more than fifteen million yen due to his gambling habits. Inoue Koharu-san was the woman Anata was cheating on me with, and I'd imagine that Inoue-san probably found out about it recently, if I'm not mistaken?" she asked, slanting a glance at the visibly upset baker and his humiliated wife.

The pharmacist advanced on bakery proprietress. "What I haven't been able to reason out is why you would want Anata dead." The baker's wife backed away from the approaching woman, arms sliding over her belly reflexively, and Kaneda stopped and her eyes narrowed. "That cheating _bastard_ ," she hissed. With a pointed glare at the other woman, she snarled, "Anata got you pregnant, didn't he?"

Inoue Saburou gasped, and his wife turned despairing, pleading eyes to her husband. "Is this true, Koharu?" he asked quietly, voice shaky.

"Saburou…" she whispered.

" _Is it true?_ " he yelled, visibly trembling, eyes large and begging his wife that she prove him wrong.

The proprietress' gaze fell, unable to hold the baker's eyes. "Yes," she conceded. "Kaneda-san… refused to pay for either an abortion or child support when I found out three weeks ago and told him."

The occupants of the bakery were shocked into silence once again at this new revelation. _This Kaneda-san was a total scumbag,_ Touki thought, _and this whole situation is one giant mess._

The ring of the phone broke the tension in the room, and Takagai fumbled with the device. "This is Tagaki," he answered. "Ah—seriously?" A pause as he listened. "Repeat that?" He listened intently. "Let me hand you over to the inspector, since I have no clue how to repeat what you just said." The sergeant passed the phone to his superior officer.

"This is Megure." The portly officer listened to the forensic analyst's results, frown becoming more prominent as the explanation continued. "Really? You're sure?" a pause before Megure said, "Thank you." The inspector snapped the phone shut and handed it back to Takagi. "Analysis of the victim's blood revealed traces of the antidepressant and a heartburn medication known as cisapride. Apparently there was no trace of cholesterol-controlling prescription medication in his blood." His frown deepened. "At what time of day did he normally take his medication?"

"He takes his medication twice daily, in twelve-hour intervals," Kaneda answered.

"Usually he takes the first dosage in the bakery, since he arrives here at seven every morning. Along with anpan, he usually buys a cup of coffee that he uses to take his medication," Inoue answered, still unable to look at her husband.

"And in the evening?" inquired Takagi.

Hasagawa answered. "He's usually still in the office at seven when he takes his pills. He generally works in the office until eight before going home."

"So it's possible that any of you could have switched his pills out," rationalized the inspector. "Who among you suffers heartburn?"

Only Inoue Koharu raised her hand timidly. "I'm still in my first trimester," she explained, "and I get very bad heartburn from the pregnancy. While I do have a prescription for cisapride, why would I have given him any?"

"You're the only one in possession of the prescription," Megure reasoned. "None of the others could have done it."

The proprietress grew more anxious. "I promise I didn't give it to him!" She clutched her stomach, eyes wildly flashing between everyone in the room.

"We'll need to take you into the station for further questioning," Takagi said, warily approaching the distraught woman. He gently grasped her elbow and began to steer her towards the door.

"But I didn't kill him!" she cried, and Touki once again caught the fleeting look of satisfaction on the culprit's face.

"A-re-re?" Masanori piped up, and everyone turned to look at the doll, "This doesn't add up…" Megure was about to berate Touki for continuing with the puppet farce when the child continued, "Out of everyone here, only someone with an intricate knowledge of drugs would have known to switch the atorvastatin with cisapride. One of the drug reactions when you mix cisapride and maprotiline is Long Q-T Syndrome, a type of arrhythmia that causes sudden cardiac arrest."

The inspector blinked. "That is what Tome-keiji mentioned," the portly man revealed. "He also said that the victim has had a buildup of cisapride in his system for months now."

"And since Kaneda-san needed to take his medications twice a day, the pills for his second dose are on the table. Someone needed access to his medical records to know exactly what he was taking to induce such a reaction, and there is only one person who could have done so. The culprit's fingerprints should be on the pills from when they swapped out the atorvastatin with the cisapride without Kaneda-san's notice. Inoue Koharu-san couldn't have committed the act since she recently received her prescription based on her pregnancy." The marionette's eyes sharpened as he stared at the pharmacist. "Therefore the culprit can only be you: Kaneda Nanami-san!"

Everyone stared at the Kaneda Hayate's wife, and she looked shocked herself for several moments before a pleased smirk twisted her lips and she chuckled sardonically. "Bastard deserved it," she said with a sniff. "Had the nerve to cheat on me behind my back, and father a child with that bitch, no less!" She glared at Inoue Koharu venomously, who cowered next to a gaping Takagi. Inoue Saburou quickly made his way over and partially hugged, partially hid his wife from the vengeful widow. "He chose a commoner over me, whose lineage can be traced to the nobility of the Sengoku Jidai. How lucky for me that he happened to keel over in this particular bakery—I had you perfectly framed for his death, since I found through the medical database you had a prescription of cisapride to help with your heartburn." She turned her glare onto Touki, then Masanori. "It would have been perfect, had you not been here," she glowered darkly.

Both Megure and Takagi flanked the widow. "Kaneda Nanami-san, we're taking you into custody for the premeditated murder of Kaneda Hayate-san," the inspector intoned, and the two men led the unresisting woman out the door, the other officers remaining behind to work on cleanup of the crime scene.

Touki glanced around the bakery, where the occupants stood around shakily before he sighed deeply and said, "Guess I'm not getting my snack after all." The Inoue couple was too emotionally drained to deal with anything except for themselves, and so the street performer gathered up his marionette in his arms and exited the somber shop. They walked a few shops down before he ducked into a convenience store, heading for the restroom. Locking the door, Kaito began peeling off the small bits of prosthetics on his face, storing them away before rinsing his face. He then helped Conan wash the makeup off as well, throwing his original tee shirt back on before the pair of them exited. He had also returned Conan's glasses, something that the boy was none too excited about.

"That was a pretty impressive deduction, Conan-kun," Kaito commented offhandedly as they wove through the late morning pedestrian traffic, resolutely not thinking about the dead body that he had seen just now. He had to avoid thinking about it for the moment—he knew he could grieve for the loss of life once he made it home. Maybe even hide from Shinichi for an hour or so, leave the detective to his own devices while he sorted himself out.

The boy shrugged. "Once you rule out that the anpan was not the agent used to introduce toxins, I determined it had to be his medication, as whatever he would eat during the day would invariably vary. And considering he died of sudden cardiac arrest, that condition might have been inherited, or it can be induced. So that led to me asking about his medical history and what prescriptions he took. The drug interactions were something that I had looked up for a previous case, though the exact drugs were not used, but the families of drugs were something of interest at the time. And interactions like this generally take a while for the adverse effects to show, so I knew he had to be consistently exposed in order for that one particular side effect to come into play—and therefore it could not have been Inoue-san, who is still in her first trimester."

Kaito shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the minor tremors from his emotional disquiet. "I knew it was Kaneda-san from the start—her quick smile of satisfaction gave her away moments after we arrived. But I had no idea how she managed to pull it off. So I tipped you off and let you do the work." _I'll never understand how anyone could think it is 'acceptable' to take another's life if they have a 'sufficient' motive. Don't they realize how devastated the people left behind are?_

The two of them entered Harajuku Station, paid for their fare, and stood on the platform for the northbound Shinjuku Line rail. Once they boarded the train, they remained quiet, both lost in their own thoughts regarding the events of the morning.

After transferring onto the Seibu Ikebukuro Line rail bound for Ekoda Station, Kaito broached the idea of teaching the youth how to sing, needing a distraction. Something—anything.

Conan gave Kaito a very flat look. "Seriously?"

"You aren't tone deaf—which I actually _could_ tell with what you consider singing—but your relative pitch could use a lot of work. You have the ear for it. Now, we need to train your vocal cords to match." They made quick work of buying groceries for lunch before returning to the Kuroba household, where the pair of the put away the groceries. Kaito pulled from his closet a full keyboard and stand, setting the instrument up in his bedroom. He sat on his swivel chair while Conan perched on his bed, the both of them armed with a bottle of water.

"Let's start by seeing just how good your ear is," Kaito said. Pressing on the middle D key, he asked, "What note is this?"

"D6," Conan asked after a pause.

"Che," Kaito snorted, "not only are you _not_ tone deaf, you have perfect pitch, don't you Shinichi-san?" He pressed another key. "This?"

"G-sharp 3/A-flat 3."

They continued in this vein, working with the entire range of the keyboard before the magician satisfactorily gauged the detective's ear. "All right, let's work on your relative pitch then. I want you to hum the note I play and slide it into the following note. Understand?" Kaito played middle C before switching to the D one full step up, demonstrating with his own voice. "Your turn."

Conan overshot the D by a bit, and the thief patiently worked with the boy until he could tune his voice to the two frequencies. "Did you notice how your throat felt when you switched between the two pitches?" Kaito asked, trying his best to explain something that came naturally to him. "You're going to have to really feel for it initially in order to be able to control how far up or down the scale your voice goes. Let's try two different notes, then we'll move on to arpeggios, sound good?" And so they spent the rest of the last bit of the morning working on ensuring that Edogawa Conan could sing—or at least string a few notes together. Kaito was determined that Conan would be able to at least sing simple tunes by the end of the week, because Kaitou KID did _not_ do disguises by half.

"The last thing we need for you to work on is your normal 'character,'" Kaito announced amidst making a lunch of yakisoba after singing lessons were over. He was rhythmically chopping his way through a half head of cabbage, a pile of washed carrots, onions, green onions, and mushrooms waiting to be sliced and the soba noodles soaking in a bowl of water. Another bowl of peeled and cut chicken drumstick and thigh meat sat marinating in mirin and soy sauce, seasoned with black pepper, ginger, and garlic. Conan sat on a stool, watching as Kaito skillfully worked in the kitchen. He was impressed with the magician's culinary skills—particularly with the knives. It was beyond any sort of proficiency developed in Home Economics classes in school.

"You need to work on consistently acting like a six year old, albeit a genius six year old. I think you can do that fairly well, though when you get on a topic you really like, you're going to have to remember to tone the intelligence down whether you like it or not." Conan did not say anything, so Kaito continued, finishing the cabbage and moving on to the onion, efficiently dicing the vegetable despite the spicy aroma. Even Conan's eyes watered at the scent, yet the gentleman thief was seemingly unaffected by the white bulb. "You'll practice with me. We'll start with talking about things you enjoy; you'll have to consciously tone things down while I make it as difficult for you as possible. By the end of the week I want you to be in full character the entire day; consecutive days if possible. It's now mid-Sunday. My goal is for you to be in full character by Thursday and keep it up until you leave Saturday for Agasa-hakase's. I will point out any discrepancies in your behavior." Kaito's expression turned into something predatory yet mischievous as he sent a sideways glance at the boy, and it sent a shiver of anticipation and unease down Conan's spine. "Slip up whenever you're supposed to be acting and I will make sure you know exactly _why_ I'm known as the best prankster in all of Ekoda."

Conan gulped before rallying magnificently and chirping with as much sugar as he could muster, "Yes, Kaito-nii-chan!"

The gentleman thief had to pause in cutting up the onion to chuckle, lest he accidentally slice off a finger. "Keep that up, Conan-kun, and you'll give even _me_ a toothache." He sent the shrunken teenager an amused glance. "You don't necessarily need to be that… saccharine. But you do need to be much less sarcastic,"—insert a grin from the thief—"tone down your vocabulary, and try to think in more simplistic terms. Not necessarily black and white, but reduced shades of grey. Also, if you want to annoy the piss out of those around you, you can be inquisitive to the point of being nosy. Children, as you probably know, have no tact whatsoever."

By now Kaito was long done with the onion, just finished with the carrots, and was reaching for the sprigs of green onion. "And you'll need to watch your voice. You have a tendency to slide into lower registers when you speak like your normal self, but usually six year olds' voices aren't that deep. You'll have to conscientiously maintain a higher register when you speak."

"Like this, Nii-san?" Conan asked, pitching his voice accordingly.

"Indeed," he said approvingly. "I should warn you that until you get used to speaking that way, you're going to need to practice exercising your larynx," the thief explained, now slicing the mushrooms. His face puckered into a slight frown as he thought. "We'll have you practice in increments, as I have no desire to damage your vocal cords. You'll need to warm up your larynx each morning so that you can speak like that for the entire day. Right now you're still warm from the singing earlier. Let me show you how to warm up." And so saying, Kaito began to gently hum, beginning in the lower registers of Conan's vocal range and gradually working his way up the scale. Conan followed along, noting the way his larynx contracted and relaxed to produce the same pitches as Kaito. After the five minutes of running up and down the musical scale, the magician said, "Now try speaking. Let's try for a straight thirty minutes of you being a total six years old." At Conan's devilishly delighted giggle, Kaito rolled his eyes good-naturedly and added with an exaggerated sigh, "And yes, annoying me to a certain extent is part of the charade."

"Ne ne, Kaito-nii-san, why do onions make you cry?" asked Conan, immediately getting into character.

Kaito grinned, washing and rinsing the knife and chopping board before placing them in the dish rack to dry. Bowls of chopped vegetables lined the countertop, along with the single bowls of marinated chicken and soaking soba noodles. The magician pulled out a wok and drizzled sesame oil into it as he turned on the burner. The blue flames of the gas stove licked the bottom of the curved pan, quickly heating the metal. "Onions contain enzymes that react with other enzymes inside the onion that is then spread through the air when you cut it. When these molecules travels through the air and reaches your eyes, it irritates them, causing your eyes to water in response."

"So what are enzymes?" asked the child.

Kaito smirked, knowing that Shinichi knew how difficult it would be to explain in easy terms what an enzyme was to a six year old. "An enzyme is…" he began to explain as he stir-fried the chicken first before pouring the bits of meat out into a bowl and began sautéing the vegetables.

* * *

After lunch had been consumed and cleaned up, Kaito excused himself and closed the door to his room, though he did not lock it. He was, after all, sharing his space with Shinichi, and the detective was free to use his room as well. With an ease bred from familiarity and practice, Kaito stepped through the portrait and dropped into the strategically placed armchair, soaking in the comforting atmosphere of the Kaitou KID workroom that his father had created. A flick of a small, unobtrusive switch on the floor just under the chair locked the portrait entrance, so Kaito was assured that Shinichi would not enter through the portrait and that he would not end up with a bundle of surprised shrunken detective in his lap. Sometimes, if Kaito stopped to think about it, he found it humorous and ironic that the base of operations for someone as ostentatious and boisterous as the infamous phantom thief was as quiet and peaceful as it was. Even the jukebox, which housed records with his father's advice, would play a soothing introductory melody before Kuroba Touichi's voice spoke.

It was to this room of secrets and miracles, to this room that he felt closest to his late father that Kaito retreated to, curling into the worn, comfortable armchair and allowing his Poker Face to finally slide off. He sighed deeply, leaning his head against the plush pillowed curve of the headrest, his chin propped on his knees as he breathed in the scent of the old leather. "Oyaji," he murmured, imagining that it was his father supporting and cradling him instead of the well-used armchair and not for the first time wishing his father was still alive. "Why are people so cruel?"

Only the calm silence of the room answered him, though Kaito was quite used to not having his questions answered by now. "I don't understand…" he whispered, voice wavering with emotion. "I don't understand how someone could kill another person. No one _ever_ has a good enough reason to kill, and yet people do it all the time. Do they not understand how a life is the most valuable thing a person has? That one person's life could so enrich another's in a way that could never be replaced?" Kaito felt sorrow well up in his chest, and he hugged his knees tighter. He thought of his father frequently—how could he not?—but it was not often when he yearned for the older man's presence as keenly as he did now. Of course he fervently wished that the elder magician was still alive, but whenever death affected him personally, it clawed at the barely scabbed-over wound that his father's demise had left behind and made it bleed afresh.

But this… this was different because in the bakery, the man had been right in front of him, and he had still been unable to save him despite the risks he had taken. Knowing after the fact that it had been a murder a long time in planning and execution did little to absolve his guilt. He should have been more observant, been faster, been smarter! And so he sat, quiet and still in a fetal position in the armchair as tears silently leaked from his eyes. Bit by bit the weight in his chest had, if not lightened, that had dulled into a more manageable ache that he could mask with Poker Face.

Eventually Kaito became aware of a knocking along the walls towards the ceiling that pulled him out of his mental meandering. The knocks were light, hesitant, and scooted locations every few seconds. The magician barked a laugh as he wiped his eyes, checking his face a mirror. Aside from a slight redness and shininess of the eyes, there was no puffiness to indicate he had been crying, and the redness could be passed off as sleepiness. He exited the workroom via the spiral stairs, creeping up behind the miniaturized detective, who was knocking with an ear pressed against the wall.

Grinning at the boy's curiosity, Kaito asked, "Do you intend to deprive me of _all_ my secrets, Meitantei?"

Shinichi jumped, not having expected the thief to suddenly appear behind him. The child gripped the clothing over his heart as he strived to slow his rapid breathing. "You trying to scare me to death?" he squeaked, then flushed at the sound of his voice. When the magician openly chuckled at him, Shinichi glowered and muttered, "Barou." Once Kaito had quieted his amusement, the shrunken detective asked, "So where did you disappear to? You were gone for over an hour, and I searched the entire house looking for you."

"Oh, worried about me?" Kaito cooed, and Shinichi's glare darkened.

"Excuse me for caring then," the boy snapped, turning on his heel and storming off.

A hand on his shoulder kept the detective from retreating to the living room, and he stopped as the thief murmured, "Sorry." Kaito was well aware that Shinichi was a deeply caring individual despite his outward standoffish arrogance—they were extremely similar in that regard—and he knew that the detective meant well. "I'm just not used to having someone looking out for me in that way."

Shinichi twisted in Kaito's grasp, eyes studying him intently from behind the nonprescription lenses, noting the slight redness and liquid sheen of the thief's eyes. Empathy flooded his expression, and he said softly, "It doesn't hurt any less—watching the loss of a life that you could have saved, but it gets easier to bear with time." The miniaturized detective looked away with an undefinable, infinite sadness in his eyes, and the thief wondered how many people had died that Shinichi had personally blamed himself for failing to save.

Impulsively, Kaito dropped to one knee and wrapped his arms around Shinichi, eliciting a small yelp of surprise. While the boy initially struggled, he immediately froze when he realized how badly the magician was shaking, and instead curled his arms around Kaito's neck as best he could. The two remained locked in each other's embrace for several long moments, simply soaking in the physical comfort the other provided as Kaito silently dampened Shinichi's shirt. "Was that…" the child licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry before trying again. "Was that the first time someone died while you were trying to save them?" Kaito nodded affirmatively into Shinichi's shoulder, and the detective sighed deeply and raggedly. "At least," he murmured quietly, "people listen to you and follow your directions when you say something. As I am now, I am all but useless."

Kaito heard the bitterness in Shinichi's voice, understood how words could taste like ashes on one's tongue, and wondered what exactly had happened. Without releasing the boy, he scooped the small detective up and carried him into his bedroom, where he set Shinichi on his bed before wordlessly flopping on his back beside him, an arm draped over his eyes. He felt the youth scoot so that Shinichi's back rested against Kaito's ribcage, and they stayed that way in solemn silence, offering the quiet reassurance of simple physical contact to the other.

"The worst possible outcome I can envision is when a detective who uses his deductive powers to corner a suspect then does nothing to stop them from committing suicide. All it means is that if that ever happens, then I am no better than the murderer himself." Shinichi shuddered. "I hope I never encounter a situation like that."

"And what does that make me?" Kaito pondered out loud, uncaring of the beads of moisture that rolled down his temples from the corners of his eyes. "Does that also make me a murderer, Shinichi-san, since I failed to save Kaneda-san's life?" His throat closed in on itself as the words left his mouth, and he swallowed thickly. "Was it right to try to save him, knowing that I could have blown both of our covers and therefore exposing your identity to the Black Organization?"

"In a situation like that, Kaito-san, no one would ever accuse you of being a murderer," Shinichi replied softly, after several long moments of consideration. "It was a rock-and-hard-place type of decision. You assessed the situation and acted accordingly. I'd say you reacted better than ninety-five percent of the population, considering you are a bit more… used to making spur-of-the-moment, high-impact decisions—wouldn't you agree?" The youth's voice rose at the end, injecting a minor amount of dry humor into their conversation.

The phantom thief sighed gustily, chuckling sardonically. "Gods, what a pair we make." _The similarities between us—appearance, situations, family history—it's rather uncanny, all things told…_

The miniaturized detective snorted. "Right?" he agreed. He tentatively leaned backwards, ready to pull himself upright if need be. But as Kaito did not object, Shinichi soon found himself lying comfortably with his head on the magician's stomach, both lost in companionable silence as the afternoon light eased its way into an evening glow.

* * *

Author's Note: Can I say writing out a murder scene was—no pun intended—murder? Certain aspects regarding the murder scene were inspired by _The Fifth Detective_ by Mikauzoran, which is a wonderful ficlet. I decided a little bonding moment might be necessary, particularly since Kaito, I think, wouldn't do well with murders for obvious reasons, and it helps to have a friend on hand when one is stressed out like crazy. I highly doubt I'm going to 'ship the two—I like writing platonic relationships so much more and romances are hard!—but if you want to look at it from that angle, then by all means, please be my guest. I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 01.06.2015


	6. V: Tuesday, May 3 – Saturday, May 7

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

* * *

V: Tuesday, May 3 – Saturday, May 7

* * *

By Tuesday Conan was able to stay in character for most of the day, only occasionally slipping up, and Kaito was quite pleased with the boy's progress. The times on Monday he forgot, the phantom thief subjected the shrunken detective to an hour's worth of pranks for each time he slipped up. By the end of Monday, Conan had been thoroughly embarrassed enough to not make any more mistakes, particularly after having to spend one hour in public dressed as a girl, complete with curly blond wig and Lolita-style dress, and Kaito had free reign to cuddle him while they sat in the ice cream parlor eating their cold snacks. And even then Conan was required to act his physical age, though with the added twist of being female.

"I really do hate you," the youth muttered Tuesday evening as he flopped onto his temporary bed situated in Kaito's room, rubbing a towel to dry his damp hair. The miniaturized teenager leveled a rather potent glare at his host, though the gentleman thief simply grinned in reply from where he lay sprawled across his own bed, already in his pajamas. They two had agreed that in the evenings, after dinner up until Thursday, Shinichi could shed his disguise and openly act his true age. Tonight was his second to last night of not having to pretend—at least until Saturday afternoon, when that evening he would move to Agasa's while Kaito prepared himself for going back to school. Despite Thursday being the last of the holidays, students had Friday off since it made no sense to go to school for one day of the week.

"Do I even _want_ to know what I did this time?" the phantom thief asked jestingly. He tapped away on his laptop, which rested on a portable desktop surface to keep the device's fans and vents away from the bedding. His feet kicked idly in the air, socked feet twitching as a grin spread across his face.

The boy eye him darkly before heaving a deep sigh, pulling the towel over his face as he flopped onto his back as he guessed Kaito was probably looking up targets for his next heist. "I give up," he said, his voice muffled by the damp cloth. "You're utterly shameless."

"Oi!" the magician protested, "I'm not that bad!" He grinned lazily. "I just hide it really well."

Shinichi snorted. "Oh yes you are," he reassured with a flat tone, tugging his glasses from under the towel and clasping it in his fingers.

Kaito simply laughed, amused by Shinichi's dry humor. "Don't be such a wet blanket," he chided, reaching out and snagging the towel. The shrunken detective quirked an eyebrow. "Live a little, Shinichi-san!" Kaito exclaimed, balling the towel and throwing it back at him.

Shinichi barely managed to catch it before the damp cloth collided with his face with a noise of surprise, throwing Kaito another scowl.

During the several days constantly spent in each other's presence, Kaito and Shinichi had discovered that despite their respective side occupations as thief and detective, they actually had plenty of topics to talk about. It helped that both were intelligent enough to keep up with one another. Kaito had slowly opened himself up to the idea that Shinichi could potentially be considered a friend—not in the same way that he was with Aoko, for as far as he knew she did not know of Kaito's dangerous secret after all—but a friend who he could go to if he wanted to talk about anything and everything. Because Shinichi was in a situation that in some ways paralleled his own and had been sworn to silence regarding the magician's identity pertaining to his "night job," Kaito felt somewhat safer spilling parts of himself that he had hidden away since he had taken up the mantle of Kaitou KID.

That did not, however, mean he was willing to spill everything. Kaito knew that even though Shinichi would not use any of his personal information against him, he ran the very real risk of having the detective unintentionally utilizing such information should they ever cross paths as detective and thief, with Shinichi having an "in" into how Kaitou KID thought, thereby making his capture much more likely.

And yet the very knowledge that the detective knew sent a thrum of excitement dancing along his spine, for how could he resist the challenge a mind like Shinichi's posed? Perhaps if he sent personalized heist notes to the miniaturized detective, he would come? That was, of course, dependent on his guardian's leniency. He would have to observe Mouri Kogoro for a little while, if only to get a feel for his character—nothing about keeping an eye on one Edogawa Conan, not at all.

And Kaito had to admit, it was… nice having another person around. The magician had not realized just how quiet his house had become since his mother had gone globetrotting several years back. There was a domestic sort of comfort in coming home and announcing, "I'm back," and having someone reply, "Welcome home," and privately Kaito wished that Shinichi could stay. And yet he knew just how _bad_ of an idea that was, for the both of them. There were too many ways one or the other could slip up, and with so many secrets between them in dire need of protection, having them separated honestly was for the best.

The pair spent the next few minutes in comfortable silence, with Shinichi browsing the Internet on Kaito's tablet, and Kaito searching for ideas for his various pranks. After the miniaturized detective had returned from the bathroom to hang up his towel, Kaito broke the quiet. "Shinichi-san," he drawled, drawing the youth's attention away from the tablet.

"Yes?" he responded, glancing up at the magician curiously.

Kaito closed his laptop and sat up on his bed, facing the detective with a slight frown. Shinichi responded by also sitting up, eying the thief attentively. "What happened that day… that deduction was nothing short of impressive, Shinichi-san," Kaito began. It was a delicate topic to broach, for it edged on some very sensitive and very fresh wounds, and so he scrambled to pick the right words. "However, you developed tunnel vision with regards to the murder, where you were completely dedicated to solving the case. I applaud you because that is something most people could never do, but you're going to have to learn to tone it down by a _lot_ , Shinichi-san." He gazed at his companion of the last few days with apologetic eyes. "You're not sixteen years old anymore," he reminded as gently as he could.

Shinichi looked away, frustration and fury painted across his face. The pain of that knowledge shone brightly in eyes not hidden by Conan's oversized glasses. "I know that," he choked out eventually, his voice cracking with emotion, and Kaito's head dropped, for he truly felt for the detective and felt like a complete prick for metaphorically rubbing it in his face. But this was about disguising with Shinichi's life on the line, and regardless of how harsh he had to be, Kaito would not be the one to jeopardize Shinichi because he failed to point out flaws in his acting. "I know that I'm not sixteen anymore," he repeated, hands clenched into fists that grasped the bedding. He released a hand and unfurled his fingers, staring at the size of the appendage. "How could I forget, when my perception, my voice, everything I say and do, everything I wear, is a constant reminder?" His words tapered into a whisper, and he ducked his head, body visibly trembling.

Kaito waited a beat to see if the boy was going to pull himself together but when it became clear he was not able to, he scooped Shinichi onto his own bed and settled him at his side, tentatively curling an arm around the youth's trembling shoulders. It was the first time the gentleman thief had seen the shrunken detective viscerally react to his situation—Kaito had long suspected that Shinichi had simply been suppressing his emotions regarding the whole miniaturization business, and he was secretly relieved to see the dam cracking. He pulled the boy closer, feeling small hands grasp the fabric of his shirt.

" _Why?_ " he whispered brokenly, and he sounded every bit like the six year old he was to masquerade as. "Why did this have to happen? Why did I have to follow those two men?"

The phantom thief rubbed the detective's back soothingly and murmured, "You can cry, you know."

Shinichi scoffed. "Barou," he muttered, still shuddering as he suppressed the onslaught of tears that threatened to escape his eyes. "I'm sixteen, not six!"

"And yet you saw me crying Sunday evening," Kaito countered easily. Though it was bred into every good little Japanese boy that showing weakness was not to be done—stoicism traditionally equaled mental, physical, and emotional strength—his father had told him that emotions were, in actuality not a weakness, that one could derive great strength from them as well, and to never be ashamed of what he felt no matter what.

 _"Feeling emotions means you are alive," the magician had told his six-year-old son. "If you find you can no longer feel happiness, sadness, anger, disappointment, excitement, then you are not living your life to the fullest. And when you live, Kaito," Touichi had said, tapping a teasing finger on his son's nose, "you'll smile and you'll cry, you'll laugh and you'll scream. But most importantly, you'll love."_

 _"But—but Poker Face…" Kaito had protested, confused._

 _"Aa," Touichi agreed with a smile. "Never forget your Poker Face. I'm glad that you remembered, Kaito. But you must also never forget that Poker Face is only used to control outward expression of your feelings, not to suppress them completely."_

Kaito had taken his father's words to heart, and when the news had come that Touichi had died in an accident, the young magician had openly cried on Nakamori Aoko's shoulder, despite the fact that he was a big boy of eight years old. Since then Kaito had dedicated his time to pulling pranks, creating causes for laughter when he was not working on learning a new magic trick, doing his utmost best to ensure that everyone he knew _lived_ , if only for a moment. Kaito never forgot his Poker Face, but he also never forgot that Poker Face was meant to be used as a support to help control his outward expressions when a situation required it, not to smother his emotions entirely. It was a fine distinction that at the time he had been unable to grasp, but it was one he had learned and refined over the years to balance gracefully and easily upon.

"It's okay to show emotion, Shinichi-san," the magician said, eyes wandering to the smiling face of his late father. "It doesn't mean you're weak, despite what social norms dictate." He gazed down at the head of brown hair burrowed under his arm. "Oyaji once told me that if you find you can no longer feel happiness, anger, sadness—if you can no longer feel anything but numbness—then you aren't living. When you feel it—when you laugh, scream, and cry—you know then, for sure, that you are _alive_ , and that cannot possibly be considered a weakness." Shinichi's watery eyes met his, and Kaito smiled sympathetically. "So cry."

Shinichi ducked his head into the phantom thief's side and the tears finally came, an outward expression of his rage, disappointment, and grief. Kaito said nothing, simply letting Shinichi expel his pent-up feelings without judgment, for he understood all too well what it was like to lose a part of yourself. In Shinichi's case, it was the heavy burden of finding the Black Organization, as he had dubbed the group the two men belonged to, placing him in this seemingly impossible situation of taking away his age—and consequently, his freedom. For Kaito, it had been his father, who had been and remained to this day an overwhelming influence in his life, an idol who he had strived to model himself after in nearly every aspect of his life.

The pair sat on Kaito's bed for a long while, Kaito only leaving to retrieve tissues and glasses of water for the both of them, along with ibuprofen for the small detective for later. When Shinichi's tears finally abated, the boy rested exhaustedly against Kaito's torso. The thief's shirt was wrinkled and damp from the detective grasping the fabric as he sobbed, though Kaito did not mind in the least. Rather, he was content in the knowledge that Shinichi had purged a lot of held back and negative emotions, and to him the physical discomfort was more than worth it.

The boy's eyes were swollen and red from his crying session, and his nose was completely stoppered with mucus. Kaito helped Shinichi lie down on his bed, tucking him in before snagging a small facecloth from the bathroom, soaking it gently wringing cold water out of it. He returned to his room, folding it into a long rectangle and draping the cool, damp cloth over the detective's eyes. "To help with the redness and swelling," he had murmured when Shinichi initially objected.

With Shinichi lying prostrate on his bed, Kaito plucked the glasses off the detective's futon and placed them on his desk. He removed his laptop from his bed as well, placing it on his desk and plugging it in to charge. He puttered around his room for a bit more before rewetting the towel and replacing it over Shinichi's eyes. He changed into a fresh shirt before turning out the lights, sliding into the bedding in Shinichi's futon on the floor and realizing just then how tired he was. He was almost fully asleep when he heard Shinichi rustling the covers in his bed.

"Kaito…?" Shinichi's soft voice sounded so childlike and insecure, so different from his usual confident and sarcastic tones that the gentleman thief was pulled back to the realm of consciousness instantly.

"Hmm?" he responded quietly, belatedly recognizing that the detective had left off an honorific. He had no idea if it was intentional or not. He twisted around to face the miniaturized detective, who still lay on his back with the washcloth draped over his eyes, though the hand visible to him restlessly fidgeted on the duvet. Kaito was sure he had wrung the towel out enough so that excess water would not dribble down his temples, and so the only conclusion he could draw was that Shinichi was still crying silently beneath his unintentional blindfold. He frowned, the unhappy expression only deepening when the detective failed to respond after several breaths. "Shinichi-san?" he asked, keen eyes picking out even the faintest wrinkles of expression on the detective's countenance, even in the darkness. Kaito had always been blessed with excellent night vision.

"I—I'm—" The words seemed to stick in the boy's throat, and Kaito levered himself up into a sitting position, his attention focused solely on the inhabitant of the bed. Shinichi curled onto his side, the towel somehow managing to stick onto his face despite his fetal position, and he whispered into his knees, "I'm—I—I don't know…" His voice trailed off, and Kaito could taste the despair in his tone.

"You're just overwhelmed," the phantom thief murmured with a soft exhale, understanding perfectly. "I felt the same way too." He _had_ felt the same, first after learning of his father's murder, and again after his first encounter with Snake and his Organization during the Blue Birthday heist. He, too, pulled his knees to his chest, though he remained sitting upright, his head tilted back so he could stare at the ceiling. "I remember thinking how much I wished Kaa-san was home so I could talk to her and she could just hug me," he admitted quietly, recalling the heist where he had been shot in the heart.

They remained in silent but comfortable companionship until Kaito remembered the towel stuck to Shinichi's face. He rose and peeled it gently away, padding to the bathroom to drop it in the sink, using the facilities while he was there. When he returned, Shinichi had turned away so that his back faced the room, though he remained curled in a compact ball. Stifling a sigh, Kaito returned to the futon and sat down. The padding sighed softly with his added weight and he shook the blankets out as he settled himself on the bedding.

"Kaito…?" The thief paused, once again noting the absence of an honorific. Eyes snapped onto the young form, still facing away. Knowing that his lack of movement and silence indicated he was listening, Kaito waited for Shinichi to finish his thought. "Could you—could I—" Shinichi curled tighter on himself, and Kaito watched, intrigued at what the detective might ask of him. "Could I have a hug?" he finally breathed, so quietly the magician barely heard the request.

Kaito exhaled softly, easily scooting from the futon to his bed. He attempted to gather Shinichi in his arms so he could lean against the headboard but encountered resistance. He turned quizzical eyes on the shrunken detective, who twisted to face him. There was vulnerability written plainly in his eyes, and Kaito was powerless to resist at seeing the expression on such a young face.

"Sleep?" the detective asked, cheeks dusting with a blush, and Kaito chuckled.

"If you're sure, Shinichi-san," he said, sliding under the covers and pulling the boy against his chest with the both of them facing the same direction. Kaito folded his arms around Shinichi and felt tension drain from the small form.

The pair reveled in the warmth and comfort the other provided, and Kaito was again nearly asleep when the detective murmured, "Shinichi."

"Hmm?" he mumbled, barely awake.

"Just Shinichi, Kaito," the boy said.

The magician nuzzled the head of hair before him sleepily and hummed an affirmative before drifting away completely, curling more snuggly around the small body in his arms. He never heard Shinichi's quiet but heartfelt, "Thank you for everything, Kaito."

* * *

Wednesday morning rolled around lazily, with neither boy bothering to get up with the sun's rays. Kaito once again had Shinichi cuddled like his own personal teddy bear, and Shinichi had smothered himself as far as he could under the curve of Kaito's neck. Once again the magician was the first one to wake, blinking the sleep slowly out of his eyes. A glance at his bedside clock revealed the time to be two hours shy of noon.

Kaito grinned as he fully woke up. Today was a special day—his eyes swiveled down to the mass of bedhead cowlicks nestled under his chin. Time to make it a day Shinichi would not forget. But first, he needed to get the detective to release his shirt. The magician pondered his dilemma for two seconds before shrugging. He was first and foremost an excellent magician, but he was also an accomplished escape artist. And so without much thought he slipped easily out of his shirt, leaving the slumbering detective clutching the now unoccupied clothes with a frown.

Shinichi complained unintelligibly as the source of heat disappeared, hands blindly patting his immediate vicinity in his search for the warmth. Kaito chuckled before making quick work of his morning ablutions. He rooted in his closet for a change of clothes before withdrawing from his desk a small stack of folded squares of one-sided, multicolored paper. He read through them briefly before he placed one of the slips of paper on the pillow next to the detective's head so that he would see it when he woke later. Kaito tucked the rest of them in his back pocket with a grin and headed downstairs to begin breakfast. While he waited for the miso to boil, he flitted about the house, hiding several of the slips of paper in the furniture before returning to the kitchen to make two rolls of tamagoyaki.

After eating his breakfast and setting some aside for the still-snoozing sloth known as Edogawa Conan, also known as Kudou Shinichi, Kaito set out to various places around Ekoda, cleverly concealing the small scraps of paper. That done, he headed off to do some grocery shopping to restock on fresh produce and snacks. He returned home at half past eleven to find Conan dressed for the day but sleepily slurping the miso and munching his sliced roll of tamagoyaki. The note lay off to the side of his plate.

"So you found it," Kaito said cheerily. "Solved it yet?"

The boy groggily regarded him before groaning and mumbling around a mouthful of egg, "It's too early to deal with you," along with, "I need caffeine," muttered under his breath.

The magician huffed, affronted. "Too early?" he repeated, sending the half-asleep detective a withering stare. Reaching a hand out, he plucked the note off the table. "Then don't even bother solving this."

"Oi!" Shinichi objected, waking up at the loss of the riddle. "You can't take back what you gave!"

"I can if the recipient is an ungrateful brat who has no appreciation for the effort I put into it," Kaito snipped back, sticking his tongue out childishly.

The shrunken detective gave the magician a flat look. "That is _so_ mature, Kaito."

"Look who's talking," the phantom thief retorted, though he took the edge off the comment by ruffling Shinichi's hair and depositing the riddle by his plate. "There's a time limit on this," Kaito announced. "Finish solving it by noon or you won't receive your prize!"

Meal forgotten with the incentive, Shinichi began working through the puzzle in earnest, eventually hopping out of the chair and wandering into the living room, where he found the first of a handful of papers that Kaito had hidden earlier that morning. The gentleman thief watched, amused, as the detective steadily found the additional riddles, leaving the boy to his own devices as he cleaned up after Shinichi's forgotten breakfast and began preparing lunch. He chuckled when he heard the front door close, indicating that Shinichi had left for Ekoda Park to complete the scavenger hunt. Kaito was nearly done with making yakimeshi when Shinichi returned five minutes to noon with a slightly puzzled expression on his face and his pockets full of paper, and the thief knew that the detective had solved all of the little puzzles he had created save the last one, which had led him in a circle back to the Kuroba residence.

The last slip of paper was in his hand, and Shinichi glanced at Kaito quizzically when he recited:

 _"Covered by the faces of the white marauder,  
The access to the world's favorite game  
Can be found only by asking the source._"

The detective cocked his head to the side. "The world's favorite game is soccer. But what does me asking you about access to soccer have anything to do with Kaitou KID?"

Kaito chuckled as he spooned the yakimeshi onto a large plate. "Give me a moment to finish up here, and I'll show you your prize. Do you know what's so special about today, Shinichi?" The thief set the table for lunch with the boy's help, the both of them sitting down in their now-normal spots.

"It's Citizen's Holiday?" the boy answered with a question in his tone.

Kaito laughed and held out his cupped, empty hands to Shinichi. A small puff of pink smoke later, and a box sat in his once-empty palms. The box was about a quarter the size of a shoebox and wrapped in a hand-drawn gift-wrap paper featuring a plethora of Kaitou KID's smiling signature doodles.

Shinichi burst out laughing as he accepted the proffered gift. "Egocentric much?" he jibed as he turned the box over in his hands.

"Open it," Kaito directed, and the detective tore into the paper without hesitation. Shinichi opened the box to reveal two slips of paper. Closer inspection revealed them to be a pair of tickets to watch the first stage J-League match between the Tokyo Spirits and Big Osaka.

Shinichi stared in shock at the two tickets in his hand. "Kaito?" he asked, baffled.

"Happy birthday, Shinichi." Kaito smiled gently. "You've had one hell of a shitty week, despite it being Golden Week and all. So to help cheer you up a little, I decided to get tickets so we could watch the game to celebrate your birthday." He pointed to the time and date on the tickets. "The game is for today at three. Let's eat and get ready so we can get there early. I'll warn you ahead of time that I'm not a soccer fan, and won't have any idea what's going on besides the goal of kicking the ball into the opponent's net."

The detective was struck speechless by the thief's kindness. "I—"

"And you won't have to act like Conan while we're there. Attending the game today should be about just enjoying yourself," Kaito said, serving himself some of the yakimeshi as he blithely continued.

"Kaito…"

"I tried to get good seats, but had no idea how expensive soccer tickets were! So I apologize if these aren't the best seats in the stadium—"

"Kaito…"

"—but my night job doesn't exactly pay well and has distressingly few benefits and no hazard pay, so I—"

"Kaito!"

The magician started, only then realizing he had been rambling, nervous about whether or not he had overdone it with his present. It _had_ been rather expensive, but Kaito did not want Shinichi to misinterpret his intentions either. Kaito simply saw Shinichi as a friend, and equal, someone who could understand the situation he was caught in due to circumstances outside his control because Shinichi was entangled in something similar, if quite a bit more severe. It really was a gesture of thanks on the magician's part for simply lending an ear to talk to and a shoulder to lean on—and of course, providing immense amounts of entertainment for the past week.

"Thank you," Shinichi said, the gratitude clear in his eyes. "Really, Kaito."

"You're welcome, Shinichi," Kaito replied with a grin.

* * *

Shinichi and Kaito encountered another murder before their week together was over, which resulted in another lecture from the thief on the detective's tunnel vision that afternoon, despite the thief's promise that Saturday after lunch was Shinichi's "free" time.

"I can't help it," Shinichi complained petulantly, stirring his apple juice with the straw. "I can't help wanting to help solve a case!"

"You're going to _have_ to help it, Conan-kun," Kaito retorted at his "younger brother," picking up his cup of jasmine tea for a sip. "You'll blow your cover right from the start if you don't." The pair sat in a small street side café for an afternoon snack of coffeecake and strudels, since the murder had occurred right as they sat down for lunch at a local German establishment. Kaito had been craving bratwurst, but considering the case had included a man knifed in the kitchen with his innards spilled on the floor, the magician was, understandably, reluctant to order any sort of sausage for the foreseeable future. As it was, it was a battle for Kaito to get anything down, since he still felt rather queasy from seeing yet another dead body.

"Kaito—nii-san… are you okay?" Shinichi asked, belatedly tacking on the suffix as they were in public as he eyed the thief worriedly. "You still look a little green."

"Forgive me if I'm not quite so used to seeing dead bodies with any sort of frequency," the magician muttered in a somewhat snippily, clutching the warm ceramic to his chest. He eyed his charge suspiciously as a thought occurred to him. "You're not cursed, are you?" he hissed quietly, immediately recalling Koizumi Akako and her supernatural abilities.

The boy sent him a, _You're being ten kinds of idiot…_ look.

Kaito raised his hands up, one still holding his tea. "Hey, I'm just covering all my bases," he said by way of explanation. "You never know."

Shinichi raised an eyebrow skeptically. "And you just _happen_ to know somebody who can actually curse people?"

"Why yes, actually, I do," the phantom thief replied factually, and both of the detective's brows shot up. "Tried to kill and/or subjugate me a few times too," Kaito added nonchalantly, scratching his cheek with a finger as he swirled his tea in its cup with a thoughtful frown at the ceiling.

The youth resisted the very strong urge to bang his head on the table. As it was he muttered, "I give up," settling for covering his eyes with his hands, fingers sliding under the nosepieces of his glasses.

"Give up?" Kaito asked, blinking. "Just like that?" He stared at the exasperated boy before him with a quizzical frown. "Aren't detectives supposed to be a little more… I don't know… tenacious than that?" _Or just plain blockheaded like Hakuba?_ he thought with a mental snort.

"You know someone who can curse people," Shinichi stated as though it were a given fact that most normal people did not have acquaintances like that.

"I also happen to know someone who plans on chasing after a casually-murdering criminal organization while attending primary school," Kaito replied, glancing at the miniaturized detective from the corner of his eye while pretending to inspect his nails. _Said person is kind of crazy,_ was the message the thief sent nonverbally.

"And I know of someone who waltzes around like a giant white target while taunting another casually-murdering crime syndicate," the youth retorted, staring flatly at the gentleman thief through his fingers. _Pot, meet kettle,_ was tacked, unspoken, at the end of the sentence.

The two stared the other down before they mutually broke into light chuckles. "This is getting dangerous," Shinichi commented once he had regain control of himself. "We get each other entirely too well."

"Well then it's a good thing you're leaving tonight, right?" Kaito said with a grin, despite the tug of loneliness that came with the thought. "No more dead bodies drawn in my direction!"

"Oi!" the boy protested. "It's not like I try to _summon_ murderers or something…"

Kaito leaned his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table. " _You,_ Shinigami-san," he said with a pointed stare at the shrunken detective, "just _have_ to have the most _abysmal_ luck, don't you?"

Shinichi grinned, widely and insincerely. "Why? Does it negate your own good luck?"

"Apparently," the thief muttered moodily, "though generally I prefer to make my own." If Shinichi wanted to see what a dose of good luck _really_ looked like, then perhaps Kaitou KID should to send Edogawa Conan a personal invitation to a heist. But that would come later, after the shrunken detective has had time to settle into his new lifestyle. For now, Kaito wanted nothing more than to return home and rest. It was agreed upon that the pair would arrive at Agasa's home at eight that evening. Checking his phone, it was now just after four. "So what do you want to do?" the magician asked, changing the subject. "We'll need to leave my place by seven if we want to be on time at Agasa-hakase's, but since you're already packed, is there anything you want to do or discuss before we part ways?"

Kaito paid for the food and drink, and the pair left the café, headed back to the Kuroba residence. The gentleman thief remained silent, allowing Shinichi to consider if he had any last minute queries for him while he pondered the logistics of his next potential heist. He had already determined the target: the Kukulkan's Spirit, a pale blue-green, translucent jadeite set in a collar-style necklace with the carved stone as the pendant centerpiece. The necklace, with the central stone a depiction of the plumed serpent, was to be part of a three-month run of a Classical Period Mayan exhibition in the National Museum of Nature and Science, opening in six weeks' time. His thoughts also wandered to what method he intended to use to return the Midnight Sun, the deep blue sapphire brooch he had swiped at the beginning of Golden Week. Ideas flitted through his mind, each one evaluated and discarded in quick succession, since simply mailing it was just… uninspired. He eventually settled on leaving it on Inspector Nakamori's desk in a plain, unsealed mailing envelope addressed to "His Favorite Inspector". He would have to leave a bug in the man's office so that he could enjoy the vitriolic diatribe the returned heist target was sure to generate. Whoever said he was not learning anything new obviously had never been offered the pleasure to listening to a round of Nakamori Ginzo's rather… extensive vocabulary.

"Not really," Shinichi replied distantly after a period of quiet. "Just… absorbing everything from the past week."

The thief sighed ruefully. "It's been rather busy, hasn't it?" He turned his gaze to the sky, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "Hasn't really felt like much of a vacation."

The youth huffed sardonically. "I'll say. Aside from the soccer game, which was great!"

The game had been spent with Shinichi cheering for the Spirits while explaining the rules of the game to the thief while Kaito observed the game with Shinichi's running commentary and silently plotted the details for his next heist. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Kaito said honestly, pleased that he had been able to do something to bring a little cheer to the otherwise depressing week Shinichi had had.

They made it to Kaito's home in little time, and Shinichi settled himself in the living room with a mystery novel that had just come out two days prior from one of his favorite authors, though the air of preoccupation around the detective revealed that the boy's mind was not going to be on the novel. Kaito left the youth to his own devices, holing himself up in the KID workroom to make a few repairs to his glider and clean his card gun. When six thirty rolled around, Kaito found Shinichi still sitting on in the armchair, the pages of the open book untouched.

"Shinichi?" he said softly, pulling the detective from his reverie. "Want to grab a bite of something before we leave for Agasa-hakase's?" Agreeing, the detective accompanied the thief to a ramen shop several blocks away, where they quickly slurped their noodles and broth before picking up Shinichi's possessions and setting off for Ekoda Station.

The train rides on the Seibo Ikeburo and Touto Loop lines were silent, the both of them with their minds too full of thoughts to converse easily. It was only as they were exiting Beika Station that Shinichi broke the silence. Evening was rapidly approaching, the sun painting the western sky in a riot of oranges, yellows and pinks, and fading into deep blues, indigos, and violets to the east, bathing the two of them in gold light.

"Kaito," Shinichi broached hesitantly, catching the thief's attention.

"Yeah?" he asked.

The boy's expression was pulled into a thoughtful frown, one tinged with regret. "Thank you so very much."

"You're welcome, Shinichi," Kaito replied easily. "Just glad I could help—though what's with the long face?" asked the magician, leaning forwards slightly to get a better look at the detective's expression.

Shinichi turned his face away ever so slightly. "I've been thinking… We both have secrets that could get us killed. I know you don't want to be a liability to me, and I certainly don't want to be that for you. Maybe it's better if we—" he struggled to get the words out, eventually pushing them off his tongue with great distaste, "—forgot about each other."

"A logical course of action," Kaito commented neutrally, feeling his heart clench at the thought of losing someone he had come to consider a friend.

"I don't want to," Shinichi bit out. "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. You're too memorable for that." Kaito had to grin at the comment, despite the rather depressing subject matter. "You've helped me too much for me to forget."

"I still stand by what I said the first night," Kaito said. "I can forget you ever existed, if that is what you want."

"But that's exactly it!" Shinichi exclaimed, frustrated. "I don't want to lose someone I can talk about _this_ —" he gestured to himself, in all his miniaturized, de-aged glory, "—to, but I also don't want to do anything to further endanger you."

"Shinichi," the thief said softly, and the detective glanced up at his companion for the past week. "I've been at this for quite a bit longer than you." Kaito quirked his lips in a lopsided grin. "I think I'll manage, but thanks for the consideration."

"I'll repay you someday," Shinichi said with determination. "I'll help you catch the men who killed your father." There was promise in his voice, and Kaito could not help but want to believe in it. However…

"Why don't you worry about your organization first, since you've yet to figure out how to deal with them?" he suggested, not unkindly.

They were approaching the Kudou residence, beyond which lay the Agasa home. Kaito hopped nimbly over the Kudou perimeter wall in the blink of an eye, and Kaitou KID appeared, agilely walking along the top of the brickwork. By now the sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving the earth to the mercy of the coming night. The phantom thief hopped off the wall once they broached the professor's home, falling neatly in step alongside the boy. They both stopped at the gate to Agasa's house and KID unlatched it.

Shinichi turned to regard the white-clad thief. "I don't imagine crossing paths often, if at all. Besides, grand larceny the way you perform it usually does not coincide with homicides." Shinichi's eyes, glimmering with humor, turned somewhat wistful. "But all the same, maybe we'll meet again in passing. Thank you for everything, KID-san."

The phantom thief grinned. "Take care of yourself, Chibi-kun," he replied with genuine fondness in his voice as he dipped in a bow. KID dropped a smoke bomb and hid in the safety of the trees on the Kudou property, watching as the detective pushed himself through the gate and rang the doorbell. The portly inventor opened the door, admitting the shrunken teenager inside, and only then did Kaito release a sigh and change his outfit before heading home.

Upon returning, Kaito stared at the pile of bills stacked neatly on the dining room table. The amount he counted out equaled the amount of money Kaito had spent on clothing, food, and various other accessories he had bought for Shinichi over the course of the week, minus the price of the two tickets to the soccer game. _His sense of fair play is going to be the death of him,_ Kaito thought with a shake of his head. _I guess I'll have to keep an eye on him so that his sense of fairness_ doesn't _get him killed._

Kaito put the money away and cleaned up evidence of Shinichi's temporary residence in his home. Aoko and her father would return tomorrow, and in the event his best friend decided to spring a surprise visit on him, he did not want her asking questions he would not answer. The bedding was cleaned and stowed and he ran a check through his home before he allowed himself to retire for the night. As he settled in bed for the first time in a week without another person sharing the space, his mind wandered to the teenager whose life had changed so dramatically. _Good luck, Shinichi,_ he thought as he cuddled his pillow and drifted to sleep.

* * *

Author's Note: We're getting close to the end! I wanted to set up a universe where they knew who the other was from the very start, building the foundations for a friendship. May 4th, if you forgot is not only Citizen's Holiday, but Shinichi's birthday as well. Greenery Day started in 2007, so I'm sticking a little closer to the original timeline… -ish. Now all that I have left is to finish the epilogue. I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 27.06.2015


	7. Epilogue

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

Panic—and pain—were probably the best descriptors for that night. That one night that changed Kudou Shinichi's life entirely, in ways that he had not thought was possible. The evening had started off well enough—his best friend Mouri Ran had just won first place in the Metropolitan Karate Championships that afternoon, and to celebrate the pair had visited Tropical Land. Then came the murder on the roller coaster, followed by his curiosity getting the best of him and sending him tearing after the two suspicious men in back—which then led to him being shrunk from a sixteen-year-old teenager into a six-year-old boy.

He had panicked, fleeing the park and blindly running home in his oversized clothing as rain began to fall from the heavy clouds above, which compounded with the throbbing ache of his head, only worsened his mood. Along the way he had tripped on his hem, and only then, when he caught his reflection in a window, had his situation truly set in. And now he somehow had an oddly helpful, internationally wanted phantom thief who specialized in disguises _in his home._

 _I've seriously lost my fucking marbles. That or that guy hit my head harder than I thought._ He regarded the phantom thief, watching his body language for signs of deception, but failing to find any, headed upstairs to change clothing and find a first aid kit. His head still pounded furiously. He returned to the library and allowed the thief to dress his wounds. Shinichi noted how KID carefully kept from leaving any trace of himself in the home. When the phone rang, the detective knew instantly it was Ran; no one else would call him at this hour. Instinct had him running to answer it when arms clapped around him, keeping him from reaching the phone. He panicked, knowing that once the call rolled over to the answering machine, his identity would be handed to the thief on a silver platter.

"You're supposed to be dead, remember?" KID whispered, and all the fight bled from Shinichi's small body. It was over. The answering machine played his prerecorded message, and Shinichi had never so much wanted to wake up from this living nightmare his life had become. He docilely allowed KID to tend to him, all the while numbly acknowledging that KID now held all the cards. When the thief had finished wrapping his head in gauze, KID stood across from him, head tilted in curiosity. "So what's your verdict?" he asked gently. "I will, of course, never reveal your identity regardless, as I assuredly do not want you dead." He sighed, frowning. "I got you wet again," he muttered dejectedly.

Resolve strengthened within him, forming an iron backbone for him to use. "You know who I am now," he stated, taking a deep breath. "A name and a face." He would settle for no less.

KID regarded him solemnly. "You're sure? You can, even now, find someone else to help you, and I will forget you ever existed."

Suspicion curled within him. No one was that altruistic. _No one._ "You know already, and at this juncture I think it's best to keep that number as low as possible."

The thief gazed at him before replying, "Fair enough. You promise to keep my identity secret and won't turn me in? I have a lot more to lose than you do, being an internationally wanted criminal and all." His eyes hardened. "You would be considered an accessory after the fact."

Shinichi clearly understood the warning, and despite himself felt touched by KID's consideration. "I understand," he replied, his resolve unwavering. "But I am also not stupid enough to bite the hand that feeds me. It's definitely the lesser of evils, at any rate." _Simply because you aren't a known murderer._ Hopping off the couch, he took a deep breath. _There is no going back after this, even though Kaitou KID knows my identity._ Staring the thief in the eyes, he stated clearly, "Kudou Shinichi, detective."

* * *

It had been a shock to see Kaitou KID's true face, but everything paled in comparison to the sheer terror he felt upon hearing Ran's voice in echoing in his home's hallways. Kuroba Kaito had flown into action upon hearing her voice, hauling him outside and taking care of any evidence of their presence in the house. Shinichi barely remembered anything about the trip to Kaito's home, beyond exhausted from the events of the evening. Upon waking Shinichi had discovered that he was no longer allowed to drink coffee—upset did not even _begin_ to describe how he felt.

"I have to—wait _what?!_ " Shinichi shrieked, fully waking up after processing Kaito's comment. "Why do I have to give it up?"

Kaito continued watching the crêpe batter on the griddle. "Normal six year olds do _not_ drink coffee, much less enjoy _black_ coffee the way you do. If you were closer to fifteen or so, it'd be reasonable since that's when students have to start worrying about entrance exams for high school. Then they start cramming to boost grades and use caffeine to stay awake. But at six years?" Shinichi felt his stomach sink in disappointment. "And to be frank, we've no idea how long you are going to be in this situation. You're going to have to figure out another way to get your morning jump start, Shinichi-san."

The detective let loose a torrent of words that were, in many ways, anatomically impossible, and the magician whistled. "You hang around Nakamori-keibu often? I can't imagine that you'd learn that anywhere else," he remarked with a grin.

Shinichi sorely wished he could strangle his host at the moment. "Shut up," he snarled.

"Che," the magician scoffed. "You know, you're making it rather difficult for me to remember why I'm bothering to help you in the first place…" Kaito set the crêpes on the table, along with strawberries, powdered sugar, and chocolate syrup before reaching for the detective's head. "Hold still, I want to check your head."

Once Kaito had sat down, Shinichi watched in amazement and disgust at the sheer amount of sugar he piled on his crêpe. "You're going to go into diabetic shock," he muttered, eyes glued to Kaito's concoction. "Either that or you're going to get extremely fat."

Kaito scoffed before winking. "High metabolism. That and a lot of running around helps keep my girlish figure."

Discussing Shinichi's past had been… traumatizing, to say the least. The phantom thief had given him a no holds barred questioning that had him by turns shocked, embarrassed, annoyed, and offended, amongst other reactions elicited by Kaito's questions. _But seriously,_ he groused, _did he really need to know if I've slept with anyone?_

Kaito had begun lecturing on the finer points of disguising. "Aspects of your personality that are hardwired and not easily changed—my personal definition, at least. For instance, your insatiable need to investigate everything under the sun if it happens under your nose; your desire to protect others at the expense of your own health; your obsessive love for all things soccer and Sherlock Holmes; your curiosity turning your normally logical self into someone impulsive and even reckless; your longstanding crush on Mouri Ran-san that sometimes turns you into a blushing idiot—"

"Oi!" _I do_ not _turn into a blushing idiot around Ran! … do I?_

"—your inability to sing despite the fact that you have a decent ear; you know, things like that," Kaito continued with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Those are things I need to take into consideration and work around in order to build your disguise. So, what name would you like to go by?" He grinned sneakily, and Shinichi felt nothing good could come from that smirk. "I'll even be nice and let you keep your gender."

" _What?!_ " He was kidding. He _had_ to be kidding. _Gods_ , he hoped the thief was kidding!

Kaito shrugged. "Your disguise would separate you that much more from Kudou Shinichi if you could pretend to be female. But as your acting ability is far from satisfactory, I'm letting that option slide. Though, you have a surprising flair for the dramatic—probably from your mom. I'm thinking a somewhat distant relative to Kudou Shinichi. Any surnames off the top of your head from your family tree?"

Shinichi shook his head. "My parents were both the only children of their parents. So as far as I know, I don't have any cousins."

"Excellent. That makes it a lot easier for me, then," Kaito said.

 _This can't be good._ "You?"

"Yes, me. How else would your new alter ego exist without the appropriate paperwork?" he asked with a chuckle.

"You're going to forge official documentation?" _I am not allowed to murder him._

* * *

It killed him to think that he could have passed for a nearly identical twin to Kaitou KID. It rankled even more to be passed off as KID's younger brother.

"Will you stop that?" Shinichi—now Conan—snapped as he tried to fix his hair once again.

"We're supposed to look like we're related," Kaito said nonchalantly, redistributing the shopping bags. "Having hair that resembles mine will reinforce that image."

He glared at the magician through his glasses. "I get that, but I don't want to run around looking like a 'Mini-Me' of you!"

"Oi!" Kaito said, though he imitated Dr. Evil's infamous gesture, "I'll have you know I cut a rather dashing figure, if I do say so myself. You should be thankful that you'll grow up to look like me, Conan-kun!"

Conan gagged. "Gods, you are so full of yourself, _Kaitou-nii-san_. How do you ever manage to stay upright with a head as big as yours?"

Kaito smirked. "You're one to talk with your ostentatious deduction shows, _Meitantei-san_ ," he remarked softly.

The comment instantly brought his situation to the fore. "Don't," he snapped, feeling his heart clench in his chest. "Just… don't. That's not who I am… not anymore."

Kaito swiftly steered him off to the side of the pavement and knelt before him. "Don't start Shinichi-san," he said softly but sternly. "Don't start thinking you'll never get back to where you used to be. If you allow yourself to lose hope from the very onset, you've lost the war before it's even started."

Shinichi knew he was right, but could not yet face the facts. Not yet. "Look at me," the magician gently commanded, and the detective hesitantly obeyed. "Shinichi-san, keep in mind that by all rights you should be dead. But you're not. You've been de-aged, true, but you're still alive. You're still here, and therefore you still have a chance to expose them and take them down, right?"

"Yeah," Shinichi agreed, seeing the determination in Kaito's eyes. "You're right. I just… I should know better…" _I just need to treat this like another case, except… the victim is_ me _this time._

"It happens to the best of us," Kaito said kindly. "You're in an unprecedented situation; it's expected that you would react _somehow_ to it. But just… don't lose sight of what you still have, yeah? And besides," he added conspiratorially, "since you've teamed up with the internationally infamous Kaitou KID, it's possible the impossible _can_ become possible—ne, Conan-kun?" He finished it off with a wink.

" _You_ are _impossible_ ," he said wryly, his mood grudgingly perking up.

"I aim to please," Kaito sang. Straightening, he said with an extended hand, "Come on. Let's find a snack to eat, my treat. What would you like? Personally I like ice cream, the more chocolate the better."

"I don't really like sweets," Shinichi absently replied.

The detective was jerked to a halt. "You… don't… like… sweets…?" Kaito asked, horror on his face. "You don't like _sweets?!_ How could you possibly even _say_ such—such blasphemy?! Wait, how am I even _related_ to you again?!"

 _I should have known Kaito would be a veritable drama queen,_ Conan thought, wishing in his mortification that he could sink into the ground. " _Nii-san_ ," he murmured, feeling his face flush under the stare of passersby, "would you mind stop making a spectacle of yourself?"

"But you don't have a love of all things sugary and sweet! Why do I have a younger brother who doesn't like sugary confections?" Kaito groaned dramatically.

 _Need to make him stop! Something sweet, something sweet…_ "Lemon cake," Conan blurted out, and to his relief Kaito immediately stopped. "I like lemon cake, don't you remember?"

Shinichi watched as Kaito's eyes lit up. "How could I have forgotten!" he crowed, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Well come on then! I know a bakery that I've heard has exceptionally wonderful cakes!" He grabbed Conan's hand, humming a jaunty tune as the shrunken detective struggled to keep up.

 _Seriously, is he like this day in and day out?_ thought Shinichi exhaustedly. _No wonder his mother packed up and left…_

* * *

"Hakase," Shinichi said after explaining his situation in detail, "KID-san saw everything that happened at Tropical Land from the moment I chased those two men. He knows who I really am, and has sworn himself to secrecy. As it stands I am completely in his debt, since he knows those men meant to kill me and that should he leak my identity I could very well and truly disappear."

"So that's what really happened? The drug those men in black tested on you had a unique side effect and it made your body shrink." The older man stared thoughtfully at nothing in particular, chewing over the new information.

"Apparently. But you can help me, right, Hakase?" He would help—he _had_ to help, otherwise Shinichi would lose hope entirely. "Would you know how to make an antidote for this poison that would restore me?"

The inventor sighed, a frown on his brow. "That'd be difficult, Shinichi. I would need some of the original drug to identify the chemical basis, with because without it I wouldn't have the faintest idea of where to start."

"Then, I'll find where those people are, get the drugs, and give them to you!" Shinichi's hands curled into fists. He would!

"Just like that?" KID asked flatly, and the detective felt irritation flare within him.

"What do you mean?" the shrunken teenager asked defensively.

"Do you think that you can seek and find a hidden criminal organization designing experimental drugs, amongst other things, in the guise of a six year old?" KID asked neutrally. "Who, might I remind, cannot tell anyone else that Kudou Shinichi-san is alive, and who also needs to _enroll back in primary school in order to stay off their radar?_ "

Shinichi bit back a snarl even as he rose to his feet. "But I can't stand around doing nothing! They need to pay for what they did—not just to me, but to the countless others that they have harmed or killed!"

"I never said anything of the sort," answered KID, and Shinichi felt his pulse throb in his temple. "I promised I would help you, and I will—you will find them, and they will fall in the end. But, you need to once again be reminded of the circumstances you are now in. You need to understand your mobility now is greatly limited by your age, as are your physical abilities and credibility. No one here knows who you are; they will all think you are just one particularly bright kid who recently moved from overseas. That being said…" KID turned to address Agasa, "Shinichi-san will still be Shinichi-san, and he will continue his sleuthing, I presume." Shinichi sulked as he settled on the couch once more, mentally damning KID for knowing him too well after that blasted question and answer session. "Considering his seeming penchant for sniffing out perilous situations, it would be advisable then, to provide him with some means of protecting himself tailored to his current form. I will leave that particular aspect of his disguise in your capable hands. It should be readily apparent to you that Shinichi-san's identity _must_ be kept secret—the fewer who know, the easier it is to keep and the safer he will be. I've already suggested his parents for legal purposes, but I think beyond that, I would highly _not_ recommend it."

"What about Ran-kun?" Agasa queried with worry in his voice.

"She—she can't know," Shinichi replied softly, his heart aching at the idea. "She absolutely _cannot_ know that Edogawa Conan is Kudou Shinichi. I would _never_ forgive myself if anything happened to her."

* * *

Kaito had finally settled himself on the chair, chest heaving and sweaty from performing cardiopulmonary resuscitation. Conan discretely wrote into the thief's waiting palm. _Thank you for keeping the crime scene as intact as possible,_ the child fingered into his hand. _It'll make the investigation go that much smoother. You scared me shitless when you began CPR after being told he might have been poisoned orally._

"Attention to detail is but one of the many characteristics that define both great detectives and great thieves, ne Meitantei-san?" asked Kaito in KID's lilting tone. The pair observed the policemen at work before the magician asked, "So what do you think?"

Shinichi scooted so that he would not be overheard as he leaned towards Kaito's ear. "I don't think Kaneda-san was poisoned despite the obvious evidence of his having taken a single bite of the anpan. If he had been poisoned, he would be clutching his throat, I'd imagine, and you would also be dead. But instead, he was grabbing his shirt right over his heart. I would theorize that he suffered a heart attack, and coincidentally bit the anpan right when the attack happened."

"A sound theory," Kaito answered quietly.

 _Aggravating, flippant bastard._ "I hear a 'but' somewhere…"

"Who knows?" he whispered innocuously, and Shinichi violently suppressed the urge to strangle Kaito then and there.

The detective glared blackly at the phantom thief. "Have I mentioned I hate you?" before tacking on, "You _do_ realize I could have you arrested for the obstruction of justice, don't you?"

Kaito rolled his eyes. "You really think _that_ particular charge is going to move me when I already have grand larceny, forgery, impersonation and cheating, offenses against the administration of public justice, firearms and offensive weapons, and harmful or dangerous drugs charges already listed against me?" The magician's voice grew noticeably colder. "If this is an attempt at blackmail against my civilian persona…"

Shinichi sighed, leaning against the thief's chest, suddenly tired. "Fear not, Kaitou-san, I've given you my word, haven't I?" They remained silent for a while before the boy picked up the conversation again. "What bothers me is that the whole thing is too coincidental, with Kaneda-san taking a bite of the anpan just as he happens to have a heart attack. Then there's the fact that he had a heart attack. Most heart attack victims still have a pulse minutes after the attack because the heart doesn't actually stop beating during or after the attack—but you said there was no pulse not even a minute after he collapsed, which implies sudden cardiac arrest as the cause of death instead. It's possible he had preexisting health issues regarding his heart that could have led to cardiac failure, which means he if he did he probably was taking at least some sort of daily medication. Maybe the drugs interacted negatively?" _I don't know enough yet to draw the proper conclusions!_

"Perhaps, Meitantei-san, perhaps." And Shinichi heard the hope in Kaito's voice that begged him to solve the case.

 _And I'm relieved you're not dead too._

* * *

"Do you intend to deprive me of _all_ my secrets, Meitantei-san?"

Shinichi swore that his heart had lodged itself momentarily in his throat. "You trying to scare me to death?" he squeaked, then scowled and muttered, "Barou," when Kaito laughed at him. When the magician's laughing spree was over, he asked, "So where did you disappear to? You were gone for over an hour, and I searched the entire house looking for you."

"Oh, worried about me?" Kaito asked coquettishly.

 _You disappear for hours after a murder—what do you expect me to think?!_ "Excuse me for caring then."

Before Shinichi could stomp off, Kaito halted him with a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry," he said contritely. "I'm just not used to having someone looking out for me in that way."

Shinichi noticed the thief's attempts to hide the fact that he had been crying, and his irritation bled away. "It doesn't hurt any less—watching the loss of a life that you could have saved, but it gets easier to bear with time."

When Kaito fell to his knees and hugged him, Shinichi's first instinct was to free himself. But when he felt the warm wetness of tears dampen his shoulder, he stilled, understanding flooding his mind as his heart broke for the thief. "Was that… was that the first time someone died while you were trying to save them?" Kaito nodded once, and Shinichi sighed despondently. "At least people listen to you and follow your directions when you say something. As I am now, I am all but useless."

The next thing he knew Kaito had scooped him off the ground and deposited him on his bed, the magician flopping down beside him. Carefully, the detective scooted back until his lower back rested against Kaito's chest, and they stayed, wordlessly offering each other support.

"The worst possible outcome I can envision," Shinichi whispered, "is when a detective who uses his deductive powers to corner a suspect then does nothing to stop them from committing suicide. All it means is that if that ever happens, then I am no better than the murderer himself. I hope I never encounter a situation like that."

Kaito heaved a silent sigh. "And what does that make me? Does that also make me a murderer, Shinichi-san, since I failed to save Kaneda-san's life?" Shinichi heard the despondency in his words, and his eyes stung in sympathy. "Was it right to try to save him, knowing that I could have blown both of our covers and therefore exposing your identity to the Black Organization?"

Shinichi absorbed Kaito's words, mulling them over before he answered. "In a situation like that, Kaito-san, no one would ever accuse you of being a murderer. It was a rock-and-hard-place type of decision. You assessed the situation and acted accordingly. I'd say you reacted better than ninety-fine percent of the population, considering you are a bit more… used to making spur-of-the-moment, high-impact decisions—wouldn't you agree?" He tried to inject some humor and hoped the thief caught it.

He did. "Kami-sama, what a pair we make."

"Right?" he agreed sardonically, slowly leaning back until his head rested on Kaito's stomach, and they both stared at the ceiling, their thoughts far, far away.

* * *

"Shinichi-san."

"Yes?" He looked up from his web browsing on Kaito's tablet.

Kaito deliberately set aside any form of distraction, and the detective responded accordingly. "What happened that day… that deduction was nothing short of impressive, Shinichi-san," Kaito started, picking his words carefully, and Shinichi felt dread curl in his gut. "However, you developed tunnel vision with regards to the murder, where you were completely dedicated to solving the case. I applaud you because that is something most people could never do, but you're going to have to learn to tone it down by a _lot_ , Shinichi-san." Kaito's eyes screamed his apology. "You're not sixteen years old anymore."

It felt like a punch to the stomach. _He's bringing it up. He's forcing me to confront it because he knows I've been running from the truth. And isn't that funny, since isn't the truth what I always sought?_ "I know that," he gritted out, feeling the words scrape across his tongue like glass. "I know that I'm not sixteen anymore," Shinichi repeated, releasing his hold on the sheets to extend one hand before him. "How could I forget, when my perception, my voice, everything I say and do, everything I wear, is a constant reminder?" His vision clouded, and the boy pressed his eyes shut to keep the tears from falling.

And then he was pressed against Kaito's side with an arm wrapped protectively around him, and he felt his tentative hold over himself shatter. " _Why?_ " he breathed, feeling his chest constrict as he fought not to cry. "Why did this have to happen? Why did I have to follow those two men?"

Kaito rubbed circles on his back. "You can cry, you know."

Shinichi choked back a hysterical giggle. "Barou, I'm sixteen, not six!" he managed to squeeze out past the tightness of his throat.

"And yet you saw me crying Sunday evening," the magician said causally. "It's okay to show emotion, Shinichi-san. It doesn't mean you're weak, despite what social norms dictate." Was it truly okay? Would not being strong just this once destroy him because he then wouldn't be able to pull himself back together again? "Oyaji once told me that if you find you can no longer feel happiness, anger, sadness—if you can no longer feel anything but numbness—then you aren't living. When you feel it—when you laugh, scream, and cry—you know then, for sure, that you are _alive_ , and that cannot possibly be considered a weakness." Shinichi lifted his eyes cautiously to meet Kaito's, and the thief only smiled gently. "So cry."

The phantom thief's gentle command seemed to have suddenly released the dam, for without Shinichi's conscious consent, he began to sob, harsh, jagged cries that expressed his fury, his frustration, his desolation at himself and at the Black Organization. Kaito held him the entire time, saying not a word as he waited out the storm of tears, and Shinichi had the fleeting thought that Kaito was truly a one of a kind friend.

* * *

 _"Covered by the faces of the white marauder,_

 _The access to the world's favorite game  
Can be found only by asking the source._"

The riddle was nothing short of baffling. "The world's favorite game is soccer. But what does me asking you about access to soccer have anything to do with Kaitou KID?"

Kaito transferred the yakimeshi onto a plate from the wok with a small chuckle. "Give me a moment to finish up here, and I'll show you your prize. Do you know what's so special about today, Shinichi?" They set the table and sat down for the meal.

"It's Citizen's Holiday?" Shinichi answered, confused.

Kaito laughed and held out cupped, empty hands, which were suddenly full after a puff of pink smoke. The box was large enough to cover Kaito's hands and was wrapped in gift-wrap paper covered in Kaitou KID's smiling signature doodles.

Shinichi burst out laughing—he could not help it. "Egocentric much?" he chortled as he inspected the gift.

"Open it," Kaito said, and Conan tore into it with glee, revealing two slips of paper—tickets to today's match between the Tokyo Spirits and Big Osaka.

Shinichi blinked. "Kaito?" he asked.

"Happy birthday, Shinichi," Kaito congratulated softly. "You've had one hell of a shitty week, despite it being Golden Week and all. So to help cheer you up a little, I decided to get tickets so we could watch the game to celebrate your birthday. The game is for today at three. Let's eat and get ready so we can get there early. I'll warn you ahead of time that I'm not a soccer fan, and won't have any idea what's going on besides the goal of kicking the ball into the opponent's net."

"I—" What could he say to a specially-tailored gift like that?

"And you won't have to act like Conan while we're there. Attending the game today should be about just enjoying yourself," Kaito continued.

"Kaito…" Shinichi tried to interrupt, but the magician blithely ignored him.

"I tried to get good seats, but had no idea how expensive soccer tickets were! So I apologize if these aren't the best seats in the stadium—"

"Kaito…" he tried again.

"—but my nighttime job doesn't exactly pay well and has distressingly few benefits and no hazard pay, so I—"

"Kaito!" he nearly shouted, startling the gentleman thief. He smiled widely, hoping his appreciation was clear. "Thank you," he said. "Really, Kaito."

"You're welcome, Shinichi," Kaito replied, grinning.

* * *

"Kaito," Shinichi said, catching the thief's attention.

"Yeah?" he asked.

The decision had been difficult, but it really was for the best. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Shinichi," Kaito said. "Just glad I could help—though what's with the long face?"

Shinichi stared at the ground. "I've been thinking… We both have secrets that could get us killed. I know you don't want to be a liability to me, and I certainly don't want to be that for you. Maybe it's better if we—" _Say it._ "—forgot about each other."

There was a pause before Kaito replied, "A logical course of action."

"I don't want to," Shinichi forced out. _You've become too much of a good friend for me to want to do this willingly!_ "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. You're too memorable for that." Kaito grinned, though the expression flickered and died almost immediately. "You've helped me too much for me to forget."

"I still stand by what I said the first night. I can forget you ever existed, if that is what you want," the thief offered.

Shinichi ground his teeth in frustration at Kaito's blasé attitude. "But that's exactly it! I don't want to lose someone I can talk about _this_ to, but I also don't want to do anything to further endanger you."

"Shinichi, I've been at this for quite a bit longer than you." The detective looked at his friend with worry, and Kaito smiled disarmingly. "I think I'll manage, but thanks for the consideration."

"I'll repay you someday." _I'll do it if it kills me. I owe you at least that much._ "I'll help you catch the men who killed your father."

"Why don't you worry about your organization first, since you've yet to figure out how to deal with them?" he said, and Shinichi accepted the rebuke in the spirit it was given.

Once they reached Shinichi's home, Kaito disappeared and Kaitou KID took his place. When they reached the gates to the Agasa home, they paused, regarding one another. "I don't imagine crossing paths often, if at all. Besides, grand larceny the way you perform it usually does not coincide with homicides." He tried to inject some humor but felt that his attempt fell flat. "But all the same, maybe we'll meet again in passing. Thank you for everything, KID-san." _Stay safe. I promise I will help you._

"Take care of yourself, Chibi-kun," KID replied with a grin and a bow. Then he was gone, and Shinichi entered the Agasa property, ringing the doorbell. A last glance at the yard proved that KID had disappeared for good, and Shinichi stepped out of his outdoor shoes as the professor helped with his belongings.

There were so many ways that night could have gone, and so many ways it could have gone _badly_. But out of anyone he could have encountered straight after running out of Tropical Land in his shrunken state, he was infinitely glad that it had been Kuroba Kaito.

* * *

Author's Note: It's finally DONE! Egads, that was long. Much longer than I anticipated and I'm a little sad that it's over, but at the same time I'm glad it's over—I feel rather accomplished! I felt that I needed Shinichi's thoughts to round out the whole thing, hence his point of view in this last little bit. I don't think if I'm going to continue this, but if I do, be forewarned that it might take a LONG while before I post because I won't post an incompletely written story—drabble series notwithstanding—I wrote this story out in its entirety before the first post. So, I make no promises of a sequel! Thank you for staying with me to the end and stay tuned for an extra little present from me! I hope you enjoyed it.

* * *

Completed: 28.06.2015


	8. Omake

Detective Conan and Magic Kaito characters, settings, and ideas do not belong to me but to Aoyama Gōshō.

* * *

Gestures of Kindness

By Taliya

* * *

Omake

* * *

"Once more!"

Kuroba Kaito, with beads of sweat sliding down his temples and chin, slid into the familiar ready stance, empty-handed while his classmates circled him armed with an assortment of wooden practice weapons to practice the various skills of tai jutsu, kenjutsu, bo-jutsu, and naginata-jutsu. The class of four pupils comprised Kirigaya Kazuto's most advanced students of the Togakure-ryu, with each of the boys having studied ninjutsu under his tutelage since they were toddlers. The shinobi barked the command to start the spar, and the three boys silently lunged towards the one at the center, whose task was to defend himself from the circle of attacks with whatever he had at his disposal. Whoever was "hit" in a vital area was to lie on the floor, indicating they were incapacitated and/or dead. Part of the training included the use of the environment, so anything the student beginning in tai jutsu could get his hands on was fair game.

The magician ducked under the swing of the bo, dropping a smoke bomb as distraction. He swung around his classmate bearing the naginata, sweeping out his feet and following up with a mock strike to the throat. The smoke was by now beginning to dissipate, and the thief ducked another swing from the bo and blocked a strike from the shinai with a han kote-protected forearm. He countered, allowing the bamboo sword to slide by his side, and as his classmate stumbled past him he swung his elbow into the back of his head with a firm tap, felling the sword bearer. Hefting the shinai, Kaito faced off with the bo-wielder, circling carefully. The long, supple wood of the staff cut through the air, clashing with the shinai as the two fought to overpower the other. With a grunt Kaito pushed his opponent off balance, following through with a series of swift strikes that his off-kilter classmate was hard-pressed to counter. With a final strike he froze the blade a mere centimeter from his classmate's unprotected neck for several seconds before backing off. The match was over in under a minute. The other two boys clambered up from the floor and they returned to a square formation, first bowing to each other for a good spar before turning and bowing out of respect to their instructor. Once their master had dismissed them for the evening, the four of them chatted and laughed as they put away their weapons and cleaned themselves up.

The ninjutsu master had observed the movements of his students carefully, eyes trained to spot the slightest flaws in their technique. Of the four before him, Kuroba Kaito was his best student. A hard worker with a tremendous talent for the art, the shinobi suspected that the boy's success partially stemmed from the fact that he was also an extremely proficient magician—which went hand in hand with the teachings of the Togakure-ryuu, though Kuroba had been careful to never indicate that he was a magician to any of the other boys.

It was not difficult for him to see that his student masqueraded as the infamous Kaitou KID by night—he could identify his students by the way they walked, or even stood. It was all in their posture, their balance, the smallest motions bred by economy of movement and years upon years of practice. But considering exactly what he taught his students, he was somewhat surprised that the other boys had not picked up the fact that their fellow classmate and the internationally wanted jewel thief were one and the same.

Considering that KID never hurt anyone—ego aside—and he returned what he stole, Kirigaya had felt no compunction to turn his best student in. And really, Kaitou KID's reemergence on the world stage was, in its own way, flattering in that his tutelage was one of the reasons the thief had never been caught. Was that not the basis of ninjutsu? To blend in, to escape, and to be the ghost that could never be captured? In that regard, Kuroba's becoming Kaitou KID was the greatest tribute he could pay to the art Kirigaya had dedicated his life to—to know that the style he had learned from his master, Hatsumi Masaaki, honestly worked in the most practical sense.

Well, that and he derived immense entertainment watching his pupil run rings around the police—just as he was trained to do. He did, however, worry about the fact that there were gunmen after his student. Having attended a few heists himself, he had noticed the marksmen targeting the white-clad thief on a number of occasions, and had been hard pressed to restrain himself from intervening. And yet he had, for he knew that becoming Kaitou KID was personal for his student—knew, because Kirigaya understood that KID was Kuroba Touichi's final legacy. The original Kaitou KID had also studied under Hatsumi and alongside Kirigaya, learning the shinobi's craft and augmenting it with his studies as a magician. The two had been good friends, and though they had drifted apart and gone their separate ways as they had grown, they had, up until Touichi's death, remained in contact. And so for Kirigaya to be Kaito's instructor, it was a gift and a privilege he cherished and honored, though the young magician would never know.

Tomorrow was his private practice session with Kuroba, though training would not be in the dojo—it would be outdoors, where the teenager would be put through his paces on ba-jutsu and sui-ren. Kirigaya sighed. Now all he needed to do was train Kuroba out of his unreasonable fear of fish…

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Bo – Staff

Naginata – Halbard

Shinai – Bamboo sword

Han kote – Armored half-sleeves that lace up along the inside of the arm and come with attached gauntlets

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Author's Note: So… this is my rationale as to how and why Kaito is so good at the non-magical aspects of being a phantom thief and escape artist. Kirigaya Kazuto is the main protagonist from 2009's _Sword Art Online_. Togakure-ryuu can be roughly translated to "School of the Hidden Door", which is claimed to be the oldest school of ninjutsu still practiced today and contains the Eighteen Skills of Ninjutsu; Hatsumi Masaaki is the current head master. And for those of you who care, I'm in the process of plotting out a sequel. I've no idea how long it'll be, and it'll be slow writing since I will be following the anime timeline and its episodes very closely, so you probably won't see it for a _long_ while. I hope you enjoyed it.

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Completed: 27.06.2015


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